Why?
“Oh Bella, oh Bella my beautiful baby girl.”
I warned you.
“This is my fault, I’m so sorry.”
I warned you. I told you, six months ago.
“Bella, Bella, I’m sorry.”
All the apologies in the world can’t change what you’ve done.
“Mum, don’t kill her, please please please.” The kids are all screaming.
You’ve got three kids. You’ve gone through childbirth. Can you imagine it?
“This wasn’t supposed to happen, Bella.”
“Why didn’t you get her desexed?”
“I couldn’t afford it.”
“Why didn’t you bring her in yesterday when she started having trouble?”
“I couldn’t afford it.”
No, you couldn't. You can't afford to have a dog. Here's the green needle to prove it.
"I'm so sorry."
Can you imagine it? Can you imagine having a baby stuck in your birth canal for hours, endless hours, not knowing when the pain will end, while the remaining babies inside you rot and putrefy and turn to pus inside you?
“This is all my fault, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he was only twelve months old, I didn’t think it would happen.” I told you, six months ago when you had them here for a vaccination. $180 desexing then, $700 caesarian yesterday, $1000 dying dog now, and how much suffering?
And here we are now. 
"Why do you charge so much money?"
Honey, even if I can get away with not charging you any service fees, for which I will end up jobless, you still couldn't afford all the drugs and materials alone. If you couldn't afford to feed and shelter and provide medicine for two dogs and three kids then... why?
Look what you’re making me do.
Look what I freaking have to do now.
“This is all my fault.” She’s sobbing.
On a better day, when I’m not so tired, unwell, exhausted, having had four hours of sleep, and having lost three of my patients already today, ones that I desperately tried to save, perhaps I would have been more sympathetic. Perhaps I would have tried to comfort her.
But I don’t feel like lying today.
“Bella, I love you.”
You did this to your dog.
How could you do this to your dog?
The four puppies are starving, their mum hasn’t been able to feed them for hours. The owner is clueless. Could she get up every two hours to feed these puppies? To check them, stimulate them to go to the toilet, keep them warm, help them if something goes wrong?
No. No, I don't think so.
The owner, the children, and the puppies are all crying. The sounds fade to nothing as I hold the beagle’s head and look into her soulful, tired eyes. She looks as sick as I feel.
“Bella, I love you so much.”
I’ve got the needle in my hand.
Why?

Lump on a dog’s foot, a saga of questions
(somewhat paraphrased from a series of conversations)

Me: When did you notice the lump?
Owner: Well my friend was over yesterday and said “What’s with the lump?”
Brain: Crap what the hell is this soft subcutaneous lump? It could be anything – abscess, haematoma (bruise), lipoma (a fatty lump), mast cell tumour, lymphoma, histocytoma, haemangiosarcoma etc etc etc.
Me: We should take an aspirate and have a look at it under the microscope, is that ok?

Brain (whist looking at the smear): Crap crap crap, all I can see is blood! Are those interesting looking lymphocyte type cells just from the blood that’s contaminating my smear or is this lymphoma?
Me (to owner): I think we should send this to the pathologist, are you happy with that?

Pathologist: Round cell tumour, likely lymphoma.
Brain: Crap! What the hell do I do next?

Me (to owner): Its bad, it looks like lymphoma.
Owner: What's lymphoma?
Me: Its a cancer made of white blood cells. Would you like a referral to a medicine specialist?
Owner: No I have had a bad experience, I don't trust specialists. What can you do?

Me (to specialist): There’s a lymphoma on this dog’s foot, what do I do next?
Medicine specialist: Can you refer it to me?
Me: No, the owner doesn’t want a referral, what do I do next?
Medicine specialist: Can you get a bigger sample from the lump and one from the lymph node?

Me (to owner): Can we spend lots of money to give your dog an anaesthetic and take a sample from the lump? Btw if the lymphoma has spread your dog will probably need chemotherapy, are you willing to do that?
Owner: Can’t we just cut the lump off? How long will she live? Will she get really sick with the chemo? How long will the chemo buy us? If we’re gonna knock her out to take the sample why can’t we just cut the lump off?

Me (to specialist): Can’t we just cut the lump off? How long will she live? Will she get really sick with the chemo? How long will the chemo buy us? If we’re gonna knock her out to take the sample why can’t we just cut the lump off?
Medicine specialist: If you don’t get the whole lump the first time/the tumour has spread you’ll need to do further surgery/chemo anyway, plus it will probably be a complicated surgery. No idea until we know more about the lump. Less sick than humans get. No idea until we know more about the lump. See first answer. Can you refer it to me?
Me: No

Me (to owner): See above
Owner: Ok, we’ll take the sample, what do we do then?
Me: Probably spend more money to do x-rays and an ultrasound to see if the lymphoma has spread anywhere else. Then we may be able to cut the lump off or we may need to do chemo.
Owner: I don’t really want to do chemo, can we just cut the lump off? How long will she have if we don’t?
Me: Don’t know until we know more about the lump.

The saga is ongoing....