DOA

Will you die one day?

Of course you will. We all will.

Do you have pets?

Do you know who will take care of them when you are no longer here?

I was called to a house where police were on scene with a man who had passed away in his house. DOA (Dead On Arrival). Now they had several cats in his basement climbing over massive piles of boxes and junk. Animal control was supposed to come and secure the cats. I took one look at this house, clearly belonging to a hoarder, and told them it would take days of setting live traps to secure these cats. On my way out I realized the man was still laying by the upstairs bathroom, and I had almost stepped on him earlier, thinking him a pile of clothes among the clutter.

It took a good week of setting traps daily until we secured all the cats in the house. But how could we even know? This man who had died in his house had no contact with family that could give us an accurate number on the cats he had as pets. He had no neighbors that knew him well enough that could have helped us verify this. And once the cats had all been trapped, he had no one willing to take them in. Their fate ended at the animal shelter.

Another call found me at an address where a woman had been found deceased on her couch. Police needed animal control to the scene because two small breed dogs were still in the house and avoiding capture by the officers, who had halfheartedly attempted to secure them. So I walked in, being warned by the police officer about the smell, and immediately realizing what she meant. The DOA on the couch had been there for some time. The two small ShihTzu dogs must have been confused about their owner suddenly being so sedentary, and now theses strangers entering their home. The woman on the couch was black and bloated. I learned later that she was actually a Caucasian female, but the blood had pooled in her skin over the days she had laid there, making her appear a different color. The dogs were frantically running around the couch and barking at me. Holding my breath, the best I could, I finally coaxed them close enough to me to leash them.

There were some family members outside the home, having received the news about their loved one, and I asked if any would be willing to take the dogs, so they don’t have to be transported to the shelter. They were allergic I was told. This was not an option. So, to the shelter they went. As I arrived and carried them I had to again hold my breath as the stench of dead body clung to their fur. I believe they did find someone in the family to eventually come to the shelter to get the dogs.

One Friday afternoon I arrived at a building here in our little town. Above the shops were small apartments where people lived and in one of these a man had committed suicide, leaving behind a cat that was now perched in the window watching strangers coming and going from his home. I had to smile at the attempt from police to cover up the huge blood stain on the floor by throwing a much too small sheet over it. I stepped over this and walked up to the black cat in the window. He was such a sweet boy, allowing me to pet him and place him in my carrier without fuss. What this animal must have witnessed. The thought made my heart break. There was no next of kin I was told and so to the shelter he went. I explained the situation to staff, and they were able to secure him a new home since he was such a sweet cat. But what if he hadn’t been?

Do you have a will, or a trust, drawn up?

Do you have arrangements made with family or friends to take in your pets when you die?

Are you just assuming they will step up?

Responding to a home where someone was found deceased, and then having to secure the animals that are left behind, is unfortunately not uncommon in my line of work. I have stepped over many dead bodies and have skipped lunches due to the lingering odor of death in my nostrils. Not being able to find a family member, or friend, willing to take the pet is heartbreaking.

Of course most of us are hopefully not going to die alone, and then be found a week later, as most of these stories of mine. But if you are alive today, you will die one day. Think about the animals you have in your life right now, at this very moment. Maybe you have a dog that requires regular grooming. Maybe you have a cat that is on a special diet or requires daily medication. You spend a good portion of your paycheck on these pets because you love them and want the best for them. Now take yourself out of the equation. Who is left? Maybe a spouse. Maybe children. What if you were all on vacation together and no one made it home. Who is left now? Mom and dad, maybe siblings or an aunt? A best friend? Will they take these pets no questions asked and provide for them the way you have? Can they afford it? Have you ever discussed this with them?

Planning for your inevitable, possibly sudden, departure is as important as scheduling next week’s hair appointment. Yet most of us would rather not think about it or speak these decisions out loud. When pets are involved in this planning process it may be difficult to wrap your head around the topic. But if you don’t plan, they become a burden on someone else who did not sign up for the added cost and work. They possibly become yet another animal at the local shelter.

I am fortunate that my best friend is a lawyer who specializes in estate planning, and she has helped my husband and I draft a section into our trust regarding our animals. There are funds allocated to the continuing care of our pets and names of people to contact in the case of our sudden demise.

How in depth you want to go with securing a next of kin for your pets is up to you. Our pets are living, breathing beings that depend on us. They are not a house, or a car or a couch that can simply sit idly by until someone figures out where to move them. Don’t forget about them in your planning. And don’t assume someone will just simply be there to take them in when you are gone.