Heartbreaking End-of-Life Experience That Was Never Acknowledged…read more
I established care with Pacific Grove Animal Hospital in April 2026 after returning to the United States. Although my time with the practice was relatively short, I want to especially recognize Dr. Alicia Niedzwiedzki. She treated Coco with kindness, compassion, and professionalism, as did most team members and I will always be grateful for the care they provided.
Sadly, Coco's euthanasia visit became one of the most painful experiences of my life--not because I had to say goodbye to my beloved companion of 16 years, but because of the way that experience unfolded.
The veterinary technician assigned to us set the tone for what should have been one of the most compassionate moments in veterinary medicine, and she failed completely. She never introduced herself - not even a "hello" - was not wearing a visible name tag, made no eye contact, and spoke to me in a detached, robotic manner. There was no acknowledgment that I was saying goodbye to my beloved companion of 16 years, no expression of sympathy, and no attempt to establish even the most basic human connection.
I am a registered nurse with more than 40 years of healthcare experience. I understand that paperwork, consent forms, and protocols must be completed. But compassionate communication is not an optional extra in healthcare--it is part of COMPETENT patient care. Introducing yourself, making eye contact, acknowledging a family's grief (even an, "We're here for you and Coco" or "This is never easy"), and treating people with dignity are fundamental skills that should be expected of anyone caring for families during end-of-life situations. None of that happened.
Because of that interaction, I felt alone at the exact moment I most needed support. During an IV placement attempt, I heard Coco screaming. As a nurse, I understand that difficult IV starts happen and do not fault someone simply because a procedure isn't easy. What made that moment so distressing was the complete ABSENCE of warmth, reassurance, or human connection before and during the procedure. I felt Coco was handled by someone who just didn't care, or rather, didn't enjoy her work. Adding insult to injury, I was too devastated to advocate for Coco while falling apart. And I try not to replay that in my head.
After Coco passed away, I wrote a thoughtful, respectful letter to the practice describing my experience in the hope that it would help improve euthanasia care for future families. My concerns were never answered by the practice owner despite calling the practice manager to say I hadn't received a response. That silence was almost as painful as the experience itself.
My purpose in writing this review is not to discourage people from seeking veterinary care here (although I have another cat and have avoided appointments on the day that vet tech is there and ultimately will be finding another practice as to not be haunted by the memory of Coco's final day there every time I pull into the parking lot being reminded by the lack of follow up). It is to remind this practice that compassion is every bit as important as clinical skill, especially during euthanasia. Families will remember those final moments for the rest of their lives.
Coco deserved a gentle goodbye. Instead, her final visit continues to haunt me. Looking back, I wish I had chosen an in-home euthanasia so she could have received her wings surrounded by the comfort and familiarity of home. By people who CARE. That is a regret I will carry for the rest of my life.
