Farewell to a Vet

When people retire, we often talk about years of service, accomplishments, and well-earned rest.

But it's harder to describe someone whose work has quietly woven itself into the most tender moments of our lives.

For almost two decades, Dr. Alaine Lafaso has been our veterinarian.

She cared for my dogs, Sasha and Colonel, from the beginning until the very end.

She taught me how to care for Sasha, a rescue who came with deep trust issues because of previous abuse. Under Dr. Lafaso's direction and care, Sasha thrived and grew into the gentlest creature I have ever known.

Because Sasha seemed lonely, I got her a playmate, a little black ball of fur we named Colonel after the Colonels of my alma mater.

He was energetic, lovable, and, well... overweight.

Dr. Lafaso gently reminded me, on more than one occasion, that dogs can eat fruits and vegetables.

Did I listen? Not really. But she certainly tried. Repeatedly.

She was also the one who gently delivered the heartbreaking news when cancer had stolen the health and energy of, first, Sasha and, two years later, Colonel.

She patiently answered every question and never rushed my decision.

When the time finally came, and I was able to let go, both of my faithful companions fell asleep peacefully on my lap, thanks to Dr. Lafaso's compassionate care.

Later came the condolence cards from her staff, simple acts of kindness that meant more than they probably realized.

Veterinarians occupy a unique place in our lives.

They help us welcome new companions into our families, properly care for them, and when the time comes, they help us carry one of the heaviest burdens we will ever bear.

It takes an extraordinary person to do that with such grace.

She has now cared for Annie for almost two years, and knowing she won't be there to see Annie grow old makes my heart ache in an unexpected way.

I simply didn't realize how important Dr. Lafaso had become to my family.

I do now.

While I am genuinely happy that she has earned a wonderful retirement, there is a selfish part of me that is incredibly sad.

Her shoes are impossibly large to fill, and I honestly don't know who could.

Thank you, Dr. Alaine Lafaso, for your patience, your compassion, your kindness, and your guidance.

May your retirement be even better than you imagine.

One final confession.

You were right about the fruits and vegetables. Annie loves them all.

Well... except celery. That's still a hard no.

It took me almost twenty years, but I finally listened.