“How old was your dog?” the little boy in the parking lot of my veterinarian’s office inquired. He and his mother, strangers, had just gotten me through the hour or so it took to do all of the things necessary to have my dog euthanized.
“He was 12,” I said, not even trying to stop the uncontrollable tears.
“Well,” he thought out loud, “that’s a whole lot better than 11.”
I laughed full and out loud. I hadn’t laughed for a long, long time, as I’d been very wrapped up watching my beloved friend waste away before me.
On this day, I had gone to my vet’s office, the third time in a week, all three times anticipating that I’d have to have Trusty-the-Dog euthanized. The first two visits I came back out with Trusty on the other end of his leash.
The third time, I knew I wouldn’t be so lucky. That stretch of highway from my house to vet’s office had become familiar and long. This day, though, the ride didn’t seem long enough. I stretched it out by doing a drive in window visit and picking up some chicken nuggets for Trusty. As he became ill, I took him on drive thru runs with me just so we could hang together a little more. Well, that was my part of it. I think Trusty really wanted some nuggets.
It’s not easy to come to the decision to put a pet to sleep. They can’t tell you what’s hurting and how much. Often animals won’t display the pain just to keep their owners happy. As he can’t tell you, or even show you sometimes, it’s up to you to figure out the right time.
You will question whether you did the right thing many, many times. So, even if you know in your head it’s the right time, your heart will keep arguing the point for a long time to come. This is the one time you should listen to your head over your heart, in my opinion.
Here are some guidelines to help you through this traumatic time:
Is it terminal? The vet is the best resource for this. Ask him to be very honest with you as you need to make some very hard decisions. If when a terminal prognosis is given, however, that doesn’t mean you have to rush to have your pet euthanized. It means it’s probably going to come. When the animal’s quality of life has deteriorated and moments of joy you shared turn to obvious agony for the pet, you must let go. You can prolong his life, but that may be the worst thing to do for him if you love him.
At first we looked at several diseases that might be causing my dog’s problems. These required medication. The vet then did an x-ray. My dog is a squirmer, so the film was as good as it should be. A mass could be seen around his liver, a pretty large mass at that. Since he was 11 years old, the vet advised against surgery of any kind. Even if they could take out the tumor, and the damage didn’t prove to be terminal, with his age, he probably wouldn’t survive that kind of surgery. It was too extensive.
Along the same lines, will the pet recover? My brother rescues Mastiffs, having up to 5 rescues at a time. Only a handful have lived more than few years. Several have had their stomachs turn, a common problem with these dogs. All would be going well, then the dog would stop eating and generally look sick. My brother would rush the dog in, only to be told the dog’s stomach had turned. Basically, even if they could save him for the immediate time, poison had been released into the body at a devastating level. The dog would be in horrible pain, even if he did survive.
Pain management. If the pain can’t be diminished, or if the pain medication keeps the dog in a semi-conscious state, it’s time to let go. No human I know would want to live that way, and that’s one of the reasons humans fear death. It’s not the death itself, but the thought of agonizing months leading up to it.
Look for body language and behavioral changes. When an animal stops eating, there’s a reason. He’s telling you something you should listen to. If he stops drinking as well, know that it will affect his kidneys. You’ll have to either get an IV that you use in case he dehydrates…or you decide to let him go.
What is his quality of life? For that you need to know what brings your pet joy. If your cat likes to cuddle on your lap at night, and all of a sudden won’t sit with you, there’s an issue. Perhaps she’s hurting too much to petted. If your dog lives to chase balls in the backyard, but nowadays can’t walk a few feet without pain or falling down, that’s a sign. This is where you ask if you are keep the pet alive for you or for him.
Smell. I’m not sure how scientific it is, but I’ve known people to have a certain odor before they die. I’ve seen the same thing with pets. It’s as if the body is breaking down from the inside out.
Your health. My pet was waking up around the clock, and had to be tended to regularly. I lived alone and worked a 9-5 job which was all I had to support myself. I found myself functioning on fumes. The vet took a big notice of this. He thought I’d end up in a car accident, which I did (minor fender thing, all damage to my vehicle), as my reactions were delayed from lack of sleep. It could have been much worse.
Get support. Check out a Pet Loss Support Group before you have your pet euthanized. Ask question, and listen to the stories. You will recognize bits and pieces of your story in the others. It’s not an easy decision to make—nor should it be—so lean on a support group, family, friends and your veterinarian. Ultimately, as you watch your pet failing time and time again, the compassion and love you have for him will take control of the situation, and you’ll do what needs to be done.
