Let me begin this review by saying I know grief and loss. I work in palliative care and talk to patients and their families every day about death and dying. It's an incredibly personal conversation and one that requires compassion, kindness and empathy--something I did not receive when facing the end of my dog's life at this clinic. My dog has been a central part of my life since she was five weeks old. I lost her two weeks ago at the age of ten. She suffered from epilepsy, but likely had a brain tumor. Her seizures were controlled by medication, but around every six weeks, she would experience multiple breakthrough seizures. On this particular morning, her seizures continued without recovery, meaning they were back to back. Her vet is located in Hendersonville and I could not risk the twenty minute commute for emergency care, so I brought her to Enoch since it was seven minutes from my home. They immediately sedated her, but failed to check her temperature. For some reason, the vet tech, Caryn, began clipping her nails, as if that was a pressing issue. She eventually checked her temp, realized it was 109 and began attempting to cool her off. I knew my dog was dying. I'm not naïve to declining health, nor was I in denial. Heartbroken, yes, but I was ready to do the right thing. I would have put my dog down had the doctor explained to me the severity of the situation. Instead, they wanted to keep her overnight. Because of her seizures, I was worried about her waking up in the middle of the night and having more seizures and, since the clinic does not have support at night, I worried about her being alone. Against my better judgement, I let her stay, after being reassured by Caryn that she would be sedated enough to sleep throughout the night. Dr. Enoch called me that night with an update, but he only said, "she's not doing so great." When I asked what was happening, he continued to ramble on incoherently because he couldn't hear me. This man has to be nearing 90 years old and is hard of hearing which makes it difficult to communicate when attempting to gain information about your pet. In the morning, he contacted me an 40 min. before the clinic opened and said, "Bad news, ____ died." I asked if I could come and see her and he said, "Well she's dead." What kind of response is that? When I arrived, I found my dog on a thin blanket on a cold concrete floor. An empty IV bag was attached to her and she had blood and a clear liquid coming from her nose and mouth. The liquid had left a trail across the concrete floor. She had a pool of dried feces behind her and the fur on the side of her face was stiff, like it had been wet and dried. This is how they let me see my dog. As I paid for my dead dog's care and cremation, Caryn and another worker behind the desk chatted and laughed about tractors, while I was only a few feet away. A week later, I called the clinic to ask about my dog's ashes, and they said "he's here, you can pick him up." Again, it's the lack of attention to details, the disinterest in referencing my dog as a boy. When I asked when they came in, they said the day before. Please do not take your pets to this clinic. They are awful and made the devastating loss of my dog much worse than it needed to be. I will never forget the coldness of Dr. Enoch's words, "Well she's dead." Your pets deserve better than this chaotic, unempathetic place. My pet deserved better. read more
