We tell ourselves it had to be done. It doesn't make us feel any better.

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Susan cradled Grayson in her arms while the vet injected the lethal toxin. She held him in her arms until he was dead. She cried as she took him home wrapped in his favorite blanket. She cried when she buried him under the weeping willow she planted when he was a kitten.

She cried for a long time.

Susan’s friends said it was for the best. Grayson had been sick for a year. He had trouble keeping food down. He was arthritic. He had trouble making it to the litterbox. He was hurting. He was asleep more often than awake. He was eighteen. Susan’s friends said his quality of life was so compromised that putting him down would bring peace to his suffering. Susan finally agreed. She brought peace to Grayson’s suffering. She did the right thing. Everyone said so. Susan wasn’t so sure. If she did the right thing, why was she crying?

Death comes to all. It’s always sad. It’s sadder still when you do the killing. The mercy brought by the stroke of death relives suffering. It didn’t relieve Susan’s suffering. She mourned her dear Grayson. She couldn’t shake feeling guilty.

Medieval French soldiers had a name for a death blow delivered to mortally wounded comrades. They called it the coup de gras, the touch of grace.

Many celebrate the concept today.

They believe it merciful to end the life of all who suffer diminished quality-of-life: people hopelessly ill or hopelessly aged; unborn children with permanent defects; or any others with no chance for the quality-of-life they believe necessary. Too many pets are reflexively done away with. Not by everyone though. For most of us the anguish of coup de gras leaves a scar that lasts forever. We tell ourselves it had to be done. It doesn’t make us feel any better. “The right thing to do” doesn’t set well in our hearts.

When Susan “put down” Grayson her friends convinced her Grayson’s illness was his burden. She helped him put his burden down. Why was she crying about it? For the same reason most of us cry when we make such decisions. We cry because we miss our beloved. We also cry because our decision ended the life of our beloved. Right or wrong, it troubles the soul. Friends assure us it was for the best. “He’s in a better place now”. “You have to get on with your life” and all the other pitiable platitudes.

Was the burden Susan put down by coup de gras not Grayson’s, but her own. Was it a touch of grace, or a touch of selfish convenience? Can any of us be certain?

God knows when life should begin and when it should end.

I don’t.

By K. L. Shipley

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