The other day, David and I took our dog Dylan to the vet for his annual visit. It makes me swell with pride when the vet techs squeal over how cute he is—as if I’m genetically responsible.
We rescued Dylan from a shelter last year, and he had some minor health issues at first. So it was wonderful when our vet confirmed that he’s doing great and took him to the back to draw some blood for routine testing.
As David and I sat in the waiting room, a tall, stocky man who looked to be in his 40s came out of Room 3 with his head down. His presence could have easily commanded the space, but instead, he shrank within it. His baseball cap was pulled low over his head, and his pain was palpable.
He stood at the front desk, paying the bill, wiping away silent tears as he told the receptionist that there was no way he could stay. He then walked right by us out the front door and said, to no one in particular, “He’s a good boy.”
I overheard a vet tech quietly say to her coworkers, “Room 3 has declined to be present.”
My heart sank. I knew what that meant.
As soon as the door closed behind him, the dog in Room 3 began howling. His cries reverberated through the whole office, as well as my entire being.
“I have to go be with that dog,” I told David.
“Really?” he said, caught off guard.
But I was already moving.
I walked up to the front desk. “I need to be in Room 3 with that dog. May I?”
The staff hesitated for a moment.
“I saw his owner leave, and I refuse to let him be alone.”
The receptionist nodded, and I walked straight to the exam room.
I opened the door, and a roughly 75-pound German Shepherd lay splayed on the ground, disoriented and frightened.
“What’s his name?” I asked the tech who was in the room.
“This is Buddy. He’s 15,” she said.
I slid down to the floor beside him, lowering my tone to a gentle, soothing register.
“Hi, sweet boy. I’m here.”
His eyes were cloudy with cataracts, and it was clear he couldn’t see. I put my hands near his nose so he could sniff them.
Tears welled up in my eyes, but a voice in my head reminded me: Now is not the time. You’re here to calm this dog.
As an empath, I am no stranger to crying in sad situations. Emotions come easily to me, and even if I’ve never met you, I’ll probably cry at your wedding. But this moment wasn’t about my grief—it was about holding space for a being in need.
I stroked his head and nose. “You can’t walk, can you, sweet boy? And your body feels full of pain.”
Slowly, he stopped whining and began to relax.
I sat with Buddy for a while, reassuring him. “Your dad loves you so much. You’re going to be free of pain soon.”
The clinic manager came in and said that since I wasn’t the dog’s owner, I had to leave for the final part.
I argued my case—Buddy was finally relaxed, and I was willing to stay with him. The vet techs seemed to agree. But ultimately, the manager made the call.
They wrapped Buddy in a blanket and gently placed him on a gurney.
Someone reassured me, “He won’t be alone.”
I gently placed my hand on his head. “You’re a sweet boy. This is the best choice for you right now. You are so loved.”
Still, I couldn’t shake the conflicting emotions I felt about Buddy’s owner. A part of me couldn’t understand—how could he not be here for the final moments of a dog who had loved him unconditionally for 15 years?
And yet, I’ve loved and lost many dogs over my lifetime. I know exactly how gut-wrenching that moment is, and I understand why someone might not have the emotional space to sit through it.
The truth is, energy invitations come to us all the time. Some we accept, and some we don’t. We are constantly faced with choices about whether we have the capacity to show up or if it’s simply too much.
As empaths, we tend to say yes too often, sometimes at the expense of our own well-being. We take on the sorrow of others, allowing it to merge with our own, until we’re left feeling drained. On the other hand, some people avoid sadness and difficult emotions entirely, closing themselves off from experiences that, while painful, are also deeply meaningful.
Neither extreme is ideal. The key is learning to check in with ourselves and ask: Do I have the emotional space for this? There is no shame in recognizing when the answer is no. And there is power in saying yes when we know we can be fully present without losing ourselves in the process.
In this moment with Buddy, I chose to say yes. I held my emotions in check so I could show up for him. That’s the balance—grounding ourselves, maintaining energetic boundaries, and offering our presence in a way that serves without depleting.
The next time you’re faced with an energy invitation, take a moment to pause and ask yourself—do I have the capacity to hold space right now, or is it best to step back with compassion for myself? Both choices are valid, and the wisdom is in knowing which one serves you best.
Learn More About How To Use Your Empathy
If you’d like to get better at balancing your sensitivity while staying grounded, I invite you to join me at the beautiful Omega Institute for my workshop, Empowering the Empath!
Together, we’ll explore how to harness your intuitive gifts, set energetic boundaries, and show up for others in a way that nourishes rather than depletes you. It’s happening August 15-17, 2025. Join me!
Much Love,
32 Responses
Such a beautiful share Dougall. I have done this for many of my cats and even a relative. Thank you for showing us who we can be in the world.
Thanks Barbara, it sounds like we’re similar! 💖
Dougal, you are so wonderful! 🩷
I know as an Empath how taxing that was for you, but
being there for Buddy was so important for him and you helped calm him down and show him love. It was exactly what he needed and you were the right soul for him.
I would have done the same thing. I couldn’t let his last moments be of fear and feeling abandoned.
We don’t know the man’s story. Maybe it wasn’t his dog. Maybe it was his parent’s dog and he couldn’t deal with another death.
There could be a million reasons he couldn’t be with Buddy, but you were and that was a beautiful thing you did!
Thank you Jennifer, I appreciate you! You’re absolutely right, there could be many reasons that he wasn’t there. The important thing is to show up when we can. 💜
Thank you for caring for Buddy when he was scared and in pain. You are such a gentle, loving soul.
Thank you Christine, sending you much love! 💙
Oh Dougall, I love you even more right now. I’ve sat with my across the hall neighbor twice in the last 4 years for the final moments of her elderly rescue dogs. I had to be there, both for her and for them. I’m sure I would have felt the need to be with Buddy just as you did. Please give Dylan extra snuggles from me this evening. My love to you, David and Dylan.
Thank you Laura, we’re grateful for you! 😊
Dougall, I’m so glad I found your presence to be within my conscious reality. Such beauty, potency, it’s even cathartic to feel the paradoxes you present. Yes, the choice to make. Thanks for bringing such a dynamic to our attention. The world reels with it. Why splinter ourself off … reminds me, ’tis better to love, than never to love at all. Creatures of all sorts.
Big time blessings!! You’re truly the best.
Thank you Sue, beautifully stated! 💗
I have tears in my eyes reading this heartbreaking story. When we put our Lhasso down 4 years ago, I stayed with her but my husband ran out of the room as well…Could not handle seeing her that way and noone tells you what its llike when they get the final shot(s)..
Thank you for sharing Doreen, I completely understand what you mean. Sending you lots of love. 💜
I’m so touched by the story I cried. Only this morning I was remembering how I have had to step up even as a child to save or to have animals put down because no one else would. Very hard as an empath. But I am also a warrior and when needs must I stand up.
It’s definitely a painful experience, but our empathy is a superpower! Proud of you for stepping up Robin. 💗
Ahhhh-you are a beautiful soul Dougall-I would have done the same thing but would have had a real hard time trying TO NOT cry. I have family members who did the same thing to their pet due to their coping mechanism of not knowing how to hold space and could not be with their fur baby in the end. I am one who lives on this earth to take the good and the bad because they are all learning lessons. TO be at the end of a life whether animal or human is a form of love and they deserve to be witnessed…I feel bad for those that cannot-it is a beautiful process in the midst of our hearts breaking.
So beautifully stated Kim, and I completely agree. 🧡
Dougall,
The timing of the universe is always perfect.
2 days ago my husband and I had to have our 2 little dogs put to sleep..due to medical conditions and old age. They were also 15, they were from the same litter, never spent even 1 day apart from each other…It is one of the hardest thing we have had to do.
Your story describes exactly what my husband and I both experienced in having to make the choice to stay with them or leave them either choice was ultimately heartbreaking…We chose to stay with our boys as they went together to be free of the pain and sickness of thier bodies. In those moments the tears and heart break over took both my husband and I. ( So much compassion , understanding and empathy for the man in the story and the pain in his decision) Thank you for being able to calm and comfort Buddy…
Then this morning I received your blog telling a simular story..
So much gratitude 🙏 and always in awe of the timing of the universe and it’s messengers.
Thank you so much for being such a beautiful Light in this world.
Thank you for sharing so openly Lillian, and I’m sorry about the loss of your treasured dogs. The bond we make with them is so strong and it’s a painful thing to let them go. They knew and just how much you both loved them. Sending you much love and comfort. 💜
So much love in this story Dougall. Yes I jumped to judging the guardian of this dog. I wonder if part of the reason he left is how as a society we don’t accept big emotions, especially for men. He must have known he would lose it in front of everyone and how “unacceptable” that is and then chose to go to his car to release!! Normalizing and accepting our emotions is the next step in raising our consciousness. I just graduated (at 59) as a professional counsellor and in my schooling I saw how difficult it was for people to “let go” and to show their innermost feelings whether it be grief or rage. Thank God we know the spirit of that dog went immediately to his guardian. I pray he felt Buddy with him. Thank you for “answering the call”. I know you hear the cries (as hard as that is!). I believe you made a difference. Love to you!
Thank you for sharing Safena, your insights are spot-on! Congratulations on graduating as a professional counselor, your empathy will serve you well. 💙
I’m writing this through tears. Dougall I love that you did this. As I started reading the blog so much of me was with his guardian that wouldn’t stay and then immediately shifted to Buddy. I’m sitting here still without all the words but thank you. Thank you for sharing this with all of us, but most of all, thank you for holding sacred space for Buddy to fly free.
Thank you for your kind words Siena, I’m grateful for you! 💗
This story made me cry. Bless you for being with Buddy for as long as possible. I do understand that some people simply can’t cope with saying the final goodbye but I can’t help thinking that they put themselves first and do not consider the anguish their animal companion is suffering when the end comes and their human, the person they loved and trusted leaves them with strangers at a time when they are needed the most.
You are more compassionate than I am in understanding that some people simply can’t hold space at such a time.
I have stayed by my animal companions until their last breath and it shattered my heart into pieces. Every time the Vet had to euthanise a beloved fur baby I said that I did not want to experience that pain again but….
” Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength,while loving someone deeply gives you courage'” Lao Tzu
That is true for animal companions as well as humans.
That is such a heartwarming and heartbreaking story at the same time to me. As I read your story, I felt so much emotion, sadness, empathy and sympathy for all involved. I have read that being with your pet when they are crossing over is extremely important, but I can also understand how heart wrenching it can be for the owner. I feel so grateful and happy that you were in that vet office at the time and acted on what you knew needed to be done. You made those last moments for that dog much calmer. I can ‘t begin to fully imagine the loss of an animal. I got my first dog, a Boston Terrier at an older age and she is 10 years old now. Although her checkups have been going well, I can see that she is aging more and the thought of not having her is unbearable. I do the best I can to remove the thought from my mind as she is alive now and we have whatever time is left for me and her. I have a rather crazy question. Is there a way to prepare yourself for their loss so the burden is just a smidgeon lighter?
What a beautifully touching story. Thank you for sharing. I wept as I read it. I’ll carry the love you shared and gave to that sweet dog with me throughout my day and beyond. Blessings Dougall.
Thank you Alex, I appreciate your kind words! 😊
Such a great share. How lucky that dog was that you were there for him.
Thank you for being with Buddy. I had a German Shepard Buster who was in pain. Hardest decision ever to make but I knew it was for the best for him. I stayed with him every minute. The first dose did not work so they had to give him an extra dose to put him down-his heart was just that big. I hear of people who drop off their dog and don’t stay. I want to understand their pain and grief; however, they need you most at that point. Again, I try not to judge but it’s hard not to. I am so grateful that you were kind enough to step in for Buddy at that moment. You are pure love!
I was in tears just reading this story. Love you This happened to me when I had to put down my Molly. Her breeder was there and took over for me.
It was a hard time.
Thank you Caroline, I totally understand. Molly knew just how much you loved her. 💙
You’ve touched my heart – and many others – once again, Dougall. You show up, open hearted, fully vulnerable yet strong, to support the beautiful beings (humans, dogs and more) around you. I hope you know how many lives you have brightened and changed with your thoughts, energy and actions. . 💕
Thank you for the kind words Kate, I appreciate you. 💖