I was given two options: immediate surgery or I needed to say goodbye. The surgery wasn’t guaranteed, the risks were high, and there was no promise of a miracle. But when I looked into Judge’s eyes, I knew it wasn’t time for us to part.
You see, his eyes told me everything—full of life, determination, and an unbreakable spirit that’s always defined him. And in those eyes, I saw a Rolodex of memories and moments in which Judge never gave up on me. Not once. Through every high and low, he’s been there, my constant, my protector, my best friend. How could I possibly give up on him now?
The doctors were honest. They told me the risks, the during and post-operative possibilities. But they also told me Judge was strong with an excellent heart—minus a bum spleen, Judge was a relatively healthy German Shepherd. It was all I needed to hear.
But making that choice was a privilege.
Emergency surgery isn’t just a matter of love and loyalty—it’s a matter of resources. It requires financial stability, access to specialized care, and the ability to take time away from life’s other responsibilities to be fully present for recovery. Not everyone has that choice. For many, the cost of life-saving surgery for a pet is simply out of reach. For others, the lack of nearby medical facilities or the inability to take time off work becomes the deciding factor.
When I stood at that crossroads, I was painfully aware of this privilege. I had a support system that rallied around me, offering love, prayers, and help with life’s other demands. I had access to my own veterinarian, the Veterinary Emergency Group, and Cornell’s exceptional veterinary team which carried out the life saving surgery. Without any one of those things, the outcome could have been heartbreakingly different.
This awareness weighed heavily on me because I know so many people face the same gut-wrenching decision without the resources to choose hope. I was able to fight for Judge because I had the privilege to do so. But others have to make the hardest choice of all—not because they don’t love their pets just as fiercely, but because life’s realities leave them no other option.
Judge isn’t just a dog. He’s my family, my guardian, my heart. He’s watched over my son, protected our home, and shown me a love so pure it’s changed me for the better. He is the reason why I started my entire dissertation over and focused on the adolescent-animal bond in secondary settings. In Judge, I saw the power of connection, the depth of loyalty, and the healing power that only a dog’s love can bring. His impact on my life was profound enough to shape my career, my research, and my purpose.
Today, the doctors are hopeful. Even with three liters of blood in his abdomen, the surgery was clean, a successful splenectomy, and Judge is home healing. He’s eating like the picky king of the castle that he is, back to reigning over his Mötley crew, his spirit as unbreakable as ever. Watching Judge return to himself, sneaking back to his spot on the couch, seeing that familiar spark in his eyes cataloging another memory together—it’s nothing short of a miracle.
Judge’s road to recovery won’t be easy, but he’s here, alive, because he never gave up and because I had the privilege to fight for him—just as he’s always fought for me. But for those who aren’t given that choice, my heart aches.
I will never take for granted the opportunity I had to fight for Judge and will advocate for solutions to ensure all pet parents can make balanced choices for the well-being of their furry family member—without having to choose between love and necessity. It’s my hope that one day, every pet parent will have the freedom to choose what’s best for their pet, without limitations.
I want to sincerely thank the veterinary teams at White Plains Animal Hospital, Veterinary Emergency Group of White Plains, and Cornell University Veterinary Specialists of Stamford. Your expertise, compassion, and dedication have meant everything to our family and Judge. You’ve given us more than just a second chance—you’ve given us hope. I am forever grateful for all you’ve done to give us back our Judgie Boy.
Empathic Paws 