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  • Sara Moore

Room 6

Today I had to take Sophie, our 9 year old yellow lab to the vets.  She's been puking in the middle of the night for a while now and not only was I tired of cleaning it up, I was genuinely concerened for her health.  Don't judge me on this.  There's a back story I'm not sharing.

Anyway.  She got to the vet, got out of the car quite happily, sat gleefully on the scale and then began shaking in the waiting room.  Shaking to the point that her teeth were even chattering.  I kept telling her the vet was just going to check her out, that she was fine, and that she wasn't in trouble.  As I did that it was like she forgot to be nervous but it creeped back in and she'd start shaking again.  She hopped up on the bench next to me and we waited. 

As we sat there, a man and who I assumed was his son came in carrying a beautiful and huge husky.  They told him that they'd get him right into a room and the staff hustled away.  The dog was absoslutely gorgous.  He put the dog on the floor and she sort of melted into it.  A minute later a tech opened the door to room 6 and they picked her up and carried her through the waiting room to the last exam room. Room 6. 

I have been to room 6.  It is the room at the end of the building with a door that you can escape through if you have to euthanize your pet.  The door that saves you from walking back through the watiing room and direclty to your car.  I've been there with my cat Mocha.  As much as I talk about death in my day to day life at work I have only ever watched Mocha cross over.  That's not counting all the ones I've seen psychically.  Those don't really count because I'm very detached.  I didn't even see my mom die; she was dead before I got home from work and listened to my voicemail.

But Mocha went to the vet and we were immediately brough to room 6.  She left that room wrapped in a blue towel.  I left a sobbing mess through the exit door.  I can't even say that I LOVED Mocha. She was a cat.  She wasn't loving.  She wasn't fun.  She wasn't really part of the family, but lived unded the bed as a feral cat for her first year here, then only came out at night to sleep on the bed, aged quickly and at the end she was blind and sick.  Bringing her to room 6 was the greatest gift I could have given her.  But I know that it is not always as simple or as obvious as that.

This week I've done readings for someone who knew she had to help her horse cross but it was the hardest thing she'd ever done.  I read a few people who had recently put their dogs down, and also talked to a handful of people about missing animals.  Luckily for me I sort of tap out emotionally so I am able to do my job.  They also end up feeling much more validated and accepting of the animals transition, which reminds me that I can help people with this process.  In the "real world" I know that this can be the most difficult thing people ever go through.  I did better dealing with my mothers death than a house mates dog.  Crazy.   And true. 

I know someday I'll be in room 6 with our cat and someday with sophie, the yellow lab who I brought there today.  My perspective may have changed by then.  But I hope that I am reminded that they live such full lives with us, and that all lives come to an end.  For now I'm grateful that they're both healthy and loving.  And I know that they have made my crazy little family unit even more special.  Tonight I'm sending love and healing to the people who visited room 6.  They must have heavy hearts tonight.

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