01-16-2012, 03:47 AM
Helping a loved one die comfortably and with dignity is never easy. I can't believe that it's so tough finding somebody willing to help you. I suggest contacting the local humane society and see if they have any recommendations.
My wife has several large parrots and the nearest avian vet is about 1,000 miles away. When we need appropriate vet care we have to fly him up here. It's a big hit financially but it's another one of those hidden "costs of living". Fortunately, he loves Alaska and doesn't charge us for his time. He loves Hawaii too, so we'll probably continue the practice after we make the move. If you have the means, perhaps you can consider a vet from a neighboring island.
I worked at a humane society, and I fostered dogs that were unadoptable. They were the dogs on death row. Of course, I couldn't save them all, but one at a time, so long as I had them, I could either improve their medical or behavior conditions to the point that a family would want them. The process took anywhere from days to months and I would contact breed-specific rescue organizations to help find homes for them. The longer I had them, the harder it was to let them go. Some of them I had for a very long time and saying goodbye was incredibly difficult. The only way I was able to do it was going into work every day and knowing there was always another dog that was going to die if I didn't help it. The last dog I fostered was named Sugar. But I usually called her Booger. She was a great, loving dog, but she had terrible epilepsy. It was easy to adopt her out but she kept coming back when the families realized they couldn't handle her medical condition. She was on twice daily medication and once she started seizing, it wouldn't stop until drugs were injected. It didn't happen very often unless they forgot to give a pill, which is easy to do. She was also really good at jumping tall fences. Long story short, I fostered her something like 5 times. When the last family brought her back it was clear she was the last dog I was going to foster. Because I kept her. I was the only family who could care for her, and there was no way I was going to allow her to be euthanized because people were too self-involved to give her medicine. She was incredibly bonded to me and for a large dog she lived a very long time, I used to joke that her separation anxiety was so bad that she would never die. It was like Yoda who lived so long using the force. But, even if you can slow the grains of sand, you can't stop them, and eventually Sugar's hourglass ran out. When her time came, it was on a Sunday, meaning it was an after-hours "emergency" call to have her euthanized. My wife and I carried her to the car and made her comfortable. Somehow Sugar knew what was going on, and remembered how hard I had worked to make sure she was never euthanized, and she died right there in the back of the car. I was trying to give her the ultimate gift, and she reciprocated by giving me the even greater gift of not having to do it.
My wife has several large parrots and the nearest avian vet is about 1,000 miles away. When we need appropriate vet care we have to fly him up here. It's a big hit financially but it's another one of those hidden "costs of living". Fortunately, he loves Alaska and doesn't charge us for his time. He loves Hawaii too, so we'll probably continue the practice after we make the move. If you have the means, perhaps you can consider a vet from a neighboring island.
I worked at a humane society, and I fostered dogs that were unadoptable. They were the dogs on death row. Of course, I couldn't save them all, but one at a time, so long as I had them, I could either improve their medical or behavior conditions to the point that a family would want them. The process took anywhere from days to months and I would contact breed-specific rescue organizations to help find homes for them. The longer I had them, the harder it was to let them go. Some of them I had for a very long time and saying goodbye was incredibly difficult. The only way I was able to do it was going into work every day and knowing there was always another dog that was going to die if I didn't help it. The last dog I fostered was named Sugar. But I usually called her Booger. She was a great, loving dog, but she had terrible epilepsy. It was easy to adopt her out but she kept coming back when the families realized they couldn't handle her medical condition. She was on twice daily medication and once she started seizing, it wouldn't stop until drugs were injected. It didn't happen very often unless they forgot to give a pill, which is easy to do. She was also really good at jumping tall fences. Long story short, I fostered her something like 5 times. When the last family brought her back it was clear she was the last dog I was going to foster. Because I kept her. I was the only family who could care for her, and there was no way I was going to allow her to be euthanized because people were too self-involved to give her medicine. She was incredibly bonded to me and for a large dog she lived a very long time, I used to joke that her separation anxiety was so bad that she would never die. It was like Yoda who lived so long using the force. But, even if you can slow the grains of sand, you can't stop them, and eventually Sugar's hourglass ran out. When her time came, it was on a Sunday, meaning it was an after-hours "emergency" call to have her euthanized. My wife and I carried her to the car and made her comfortable. Somehow Sugar knew what was going on, and remembered how hard I had worked to make sure she was never euthanized, and she died right there in the back of the car. I was trying to give her the ultimate gift, and she reciprocated by giving me the even greater gift of not having to do it.