Euthanasia, I'm struggling with a tough call I made
December 8, 2010 5:08 PM Subscribe
I'm dealing with grief and guilt over the loss of a pet. Intellectually, I feel I did the right thing. Emotionally I am a mess and keeping saying to myself "what have I done?"
Last night my 14 (nearly 15) year old shepherd mix collapsed. He was one of the sweetest, loving animals I've ever known and we had a special bond.
He was being treated for epilepsy with phenobarbital. His blood levels were on the low end of normal but hadn't had a seizure in months; the vet was so pleased he was planning to wean him from the drug because it has a risk of liver failure. My dog was also being treated for severe arthritis in his back and hips, but his doggie NSAID was causing stomach pain and vomiting despite the pepcid we were told to give him. We had stopped the NSAID and were giving him time to recover before starting another but I was warned that they all are tough on the stomach.
Last night I got him up for his nightly pee and noticed his back left leg was wobbly but seemed to correct itself - I figured it just had fallen asleep. Later he woke with a labored type breeding that I recognized as typically preceding a seizure, though the seizure never came (or so I thought.) Normally he goes into a contortion with his thread thrown way back and front paws stiffening, followed by a full body flopping not unlike a fish on land and finally a loss of bladder control. But none of that happened, he stared blankly for a few seconds, licked his lips and then went back to sleep. The same happened an hour later.
The next hour he asked to be let outside and as I opened the door he collapsed. After I ascertained that he was still breathing I called for help, and a kind soul brought all 85 pounds of him to the animal ER. (I am presently incapacitated and unable to leave the house.)
The vets were unable to discern the cause of his problems without advanced testing. They suspected that whatever had caused the epilepsy was progressing rapidly, and that all of the events had been seizures. If that were true his outcome would not be good. Eventually he became conscious and was able to sit up but not walk without assistance. He was responsive, eating offered cookies, and not in pain.
I took into consideration his advanced age, the recent trouble he had had both with the arthritis medication and stuff like climbing the stairs. I recalled a childhood dog that had been ravaged by epilepsy into blindness and fear. I thought about my own health issues and how I wouldn't be able to lift him to get him outside to pee, or take him to follow up visits, how he would be marooned on his dog bed.
The day before he had briefly played in the snow.
I decided to have him euthanized. I realize that many people might have found that premature and would try to test and treat him. I've done that in the past with dogs showing grave signs of illness, only to have nothing to show but a dead dog who'd spent his last couple of weeks with stressful vet visits and misery. Later a friend criticized me harshly and and I can't help that it's been eating away at me. I feel like I failed him.
I've been getting through the benchmarks of my first day without him -- dealing with his waiting water bowl, realizing he's not at my feet waiting for a share of my lunch.
I know people will agree or disagree with my decision and I'm not asking if you think it's the right one, but I'm asking if you had to make a call in a gray area situation and how you dealt with it. Thanks.
Last night my 14 (nearly 15) year old shepherd mix collapsed. He was one of the sweetest, loving animals I've ever known and we had a special bond.
He was being treated for epilepsy with phenobarbital. His blood levels were on the low end of normal but hadn't had a seizure in months; the vet was so pleased he was planning to wean him from the drug because it has a risk of liver failure. My dog was also being treated for severe arthritis in his back and hips, but his doggie NSAID was causing stomach pain and vomiting despite the pepcid we were told to give him. We had stopped the NSAID and were giving him time to recover before starting another but I was warned that they all are tough on the stomach.
Last night I got him up for his nightly pee and noticed his back left leg was wobbly but seemed to correct itself - I figured it just had fallen asleep. Later he woke with a labored type breeding that I recognized as typically preceding a seizure, though the seizure never came (or so I thought.) Normally he goes into a contortion with his thread thrown way back and front paws stiffening, followed by a full body flopping not unlike a fish on land and finally a loss of bladder control. But none of that happened, he stared blankly for a few seconds, licked his lips and then went back to sleep. The same happened an hour later.
The next hour he asked to be let outside and as I opened the door he collapsed. After I ascertained that he was still breathing I called for help, and a kind soul brought all 85 pounds of him to the animal ER. (I am presently incapacitated and unable to leave the house.)
The vets were unable to discern the cause of his problems without advanced testing. They suspected that whatever had caused the epilepsy was progressing rapidly, and that all of the events had been seizures. If that were true his outcome would not be good. Eventually he became conscious and was able to sit up but not walk without assistance. He was responsive, eating offered cookies, and not in pain.
I took into consideration his advanced age, the recent trouble he had had both with the arthritis medication and stuff like climbing the stairs. I recalled a childhood dog that had been ravaged by epilepsy into blindness and fear. I thought about my own health issues and how I wouldn't be able to lift him to get him outside to pee, or take him to follow up visits, how he would be marooned on his dog bed.
The day before he had briefly played in the snow.
I decided to have him euthanized. I realize that many people might have found that premature and would try to test and treat him. I've done that in the past with dogs showing grave signs of illness, only to have nothing to show but a dead dog who'd spent his last couple of weeks with stressful vet visits and misery. Later a friend criticized me harshly and and I can't help that it's been eating away at me. I feel like I failed him.
I've been getting through the benchmarks of my first day without him -- dealing with his waiting water bowl, realizing he's not at my feet waiting for a share of my lunch.
I know people will agree or disagree with my decision and I'm not asking if you think it's the right one, but I'm asking if you had to make a call in a gray area situation and how you dealt with it. Thanks.
You're going through a normal grieving process, and it will get easier. Doubting yourself and wishing it had turned out differently are completely natural, and having those feelings doesn't mean that you actually made a mistake.
But I'll also say that I absolutely think that you did the right thing. Animals don't understand medical treatment and they can't make decisions for themselves. They just know that they hurt and are afraid. If they're not going to get better with treatment, the best, most loving thing that we can do for them is to take their pain away. And if we can't do that, the best thing we can do is let them go.
In short, your friend is an asshole, and you shouldn't listen to people who are mean to you when you're grieving.
posted by decathecting at 5:14 PM on December 8, 2010 [34 favorites]
But I'll also say that I absolutely think that you did the right thing. Animals don't understand medical treatment and they can't make decisions for themselves. They just know that they hurt and are afraid. If they're not going to get better with treatment, the best, most loving thing that we can do for them is to take their pain away. And if we can't do that, the best thing we can do is let them go.
In short, your friend is an asshole, and you shouldn't listen to people who are mean to you when you're grieving.
posted by decathecting at 5:14 PM on December 8, 2010 [34 favorites]
Oh red_lotus I'm sorry you're dealing with this. We went through something very similar with a beloved cat years ago. He had been having seizures that became more frequent and debilitating and like you, we had previously tried more aggressive treatment with a different pet and came to the conclusion that quality of life was more important than trying to find more time after a certain point. It's painful and all too easy to second guess one's decision. I don't think you failed your friend - it sounds to me like you did the very best you could for him and spared him some real misery. How did we deal with it? Tears, sharing memories of what a great cat he was - he was sure he was a lion and beat up dogs much larger than himself to prove it, looking at old photos of him in his kittenhood and prime. Time, patience and kindness to yourself - and don't listen to anyone who criticizes you for making such a hard and caring choice - that's not the action of a friend.
posted by leslies at 5:14 PM on December 8, 2010
posted by leslies at 5:14 PM on December 8, 2010
I'm so sorry you lost your doggy. Your grief is completely normal and understandable -- dogs are some of the nicest people I know, and yours was certainly an old friend.
You did not do something wrong. Your puppy is no longer in pain, he is no longer unwell, he will not suffer anymore. I'm sorry that you are continuing to suffer.
posted by i_am_a_fiesta at 5:17 PM on December 8, 2010
You did not do something wrong. Your puppy is no longer in pain, he is no longer unwell, he will not suffer anymore. I'm sorry that you are continuing to suffer.
posted by i_am_a_fiesta at 5:17 PM on December 8, 2010
You did the right thing by being merciful to your beloved dog, and your friend did the wrong thing by not supporting you in your time of grief.
I am so sorry for your loss. Try not to second-guess yourself; your choice was out of love, consideration, and compassion. You spared him any further suffering. You've done nothing wrong.
My heart goes out to you.
posted by scody at 5:21 PM on December 8, 2010 [10 favorites]
I am so sorry for your loss. Try not to second-guess yourself; your choice was out of love, consideration, and compassion. You spared him any further suffering. You've done nothing wrong.
My heart goes out to you.
posted by scody at 5:21 PM on December 8, 2010 [10 favorites]
Grief is hard, but you did the right thing. Fourteen-going-on-fifteen is pretty ancient for a shepherd-size dog, so you were kind and generous to have him put down.
Some years ago I had a pet rat euthanized, and was surprised and rather embarrassed to have tears pouring down my face at the vets. A dog is so much more than a pet rat, and your sadness won't disappear as fast. Be kind to yourself, now, and ignore your "friend"'s stupid ideas.
posted by anadem at 5:22 PM on December 8, 2010
Some years ago I had a pet rat euthanized, and was surprised and rather embarrassed to have tears pouring down my face at the vets. A dog is so much more than a pet rat, and your sadness won't disappear as fast. Be kind to yourself, now, and ignore your "friend"'s stupid ideas.
posted by anadem at 5:22 PM on December 8, 2010
I'm so sorry for your loss. NO ONE is a better judge than you of how much care to give, and then when to let go. I completely eschew the opinions of others on such matters as my animals well being (other than qualified vets). I am completely attached to my pets but NOT get so much that I won't ALWAYS do the right thing for my animals, which may include "heroic" levels of veterinary care. Your animal communicates with YOU personally. Please sleep easy tonight...your dog is in a better place and you were a perfect parent.
posted by vito90 at 5:23 PM on December 8, 2010 [1 favorite]
posted by vito90 at 5:23 PM on December 8, 2010 [1 favorite]
It seems like all I've ever dealt with are gray areas when deciding when to put a dog down. It's far harder with those that you have a special connection with. My condolences for what you are going through; coping with the loss is hard enough without also having to deal with creeping guilt.
I have no doubt that you're well aware of all the arguments about quality of life, diminishing returns, blah blah blah. I don't think that's what you're asking about. My apologies if I'm wrong in that assessment.
Recognizing that you can never be totally sure about when is the right time to euthanize a pet, you can't discount the vets' opinions that he was declining rapidly. After all, you would have trusted them to test and treat your dog, so why not trust their judgment about your dog's prognosis?
Without trying to be snarky at all, at some point you have to just make up your mind that you made your decision with the dog's best interests at heart. Your knowledge about the cause of his distress and especially what the future would have brought was imperfect, as it would be for anyone. But you made the most honorable decision you could with that imperfect knowledge, and that is the only comfort you can - or will ever - have.
posted by DrGail at 5:24 PM on December 8, 2010 [4 favorites]
I have no doubt that you're well aware of all the arguments about quality of life, diminishing returns, blah blah blah. I don't think that's what you're asking about. My apologies if I'm wrong in that assessment.
Recognizing that you can never be totally sure about when is the right time to euthanize a pet, you can't discount the vets' opinions that he was declining rapidly. After all, you would have trusted them to test and treat your dog, so why not trust their judgment about your dog's prognosis?
Without trying to be snarky at all, at some point you have to just make up your mind that you made your decision with the dog's best interests at heart. Your knowledge about the cause of his distress and especially what the future would have brought was imperfect, as it would be for anyone. But you made the most honorable decision you could with that imperfect knowledge, and that is the only comfort you can - or will ever - have.
posted by DrGail at 5:24 PM on December 8, 2010 [4 favorites]
I am sorry about your dog. you knew him best and gave him the best care you could and did not fail him. Your friend is an ass. I can tell you from experience you'll always have doubts whether you continue treatment or not. Your dog is no longer in pain and that was a very brave thing to do for him.
posted by oneear at 5:24 PM on December 8, 2010
posted by oneear at 5:24 PM on December 8, 2010
Best answer: I had a similar set of circumstances: he was 13.5, very old for a very large greyhound, and he woke me up very early one morning unable to get to his feet and clearly in pain.
I might have done something different, but about six months before I had taken a dog back from an ex-boyfriend who could no longer care for his/our dog, who had spinal issues and eventually could not walk. That dog was half the size of my Howie, and it was backbreaking and exhausting just trying to take care of his basic needs, and in the end honestly I let him live and suffer far too long. Like, it still wakes me up at night sometimes. My ex, whose mental health was really fragile at the time, couldn't bear the thought of euthanasia. I should have done it and told him the dog went peacefully in the night.
Anyway, I absolutely wasn't going to torment a dog like that again, and at 80+ pounds I couldn't carry him myself, even for a convalescence period if he had a chance of getting better - it wouldn't be long anyway, he was too old.
So I let the vet do a very basic examination, and she said it wasn't something obvious and...we just looked at each other, and I said, yeah, let's let him go, now, before he hurts any more.
I was wracked for days with second-guessing, sorrow, grief. I have other dogs now, we'd already gotten another puppy before Howie died, but those dogs are not Howie. He went through everything with me, some of the hardest years of my adult life. Sometimes he was my only reason to get out of bed every day.
But one day, a few months after he died, I realized something: once he was dead, I was the only one who knew that. It was my loss, not his. That is ultimately easy for me to be comfortable with because it coincides with my beliefs about death, but even if you believe in some sort of consciousness after death, surely the consciousness would encompass the decision you had to make about treatment and prolonged suffering.
You didn't put your dog down because he didn't match your purse. You chose to do it because the risk of bad days - bad days for him - over good days had suddenly greatly increased. After having gone through it both ways, I will always always always err to the side of caution. I'd rather lose a few good days than have to live with bad days I could have prevented.
Your friend - I'll be kind - might have some internal stuff of her own coloring her perception of what happened. Or she's an asshole. In any case it's not really her place to criticize you - it's already done. I personally think you did the right thing.
posted by Lyn Never at 5:25 PM on December 8, 2010 [27 favorites]
I might have done something different, but about six months before I had taken a dog back from an ex-boyfriend who could no longer care for his/our dog, who had spinal issues and eventually could not walk. That dog was half the size of my Howie, and it was backbreaking and exhausting just trying to take care of his basic needs, and in the end honestly I let him live and suffer far too long. Like, it still wakes me up at night sometimes. My ex, whose mental health was really fragile at the time, couldn't bear the thought of euthanasia. I should have done it and told him the dog went peacefully in the night.
Anyway, I absolutely wasn't going to torment a dog like that again, and at 80+ pounds I couldn't carry him myself, even for a convalescence period if he had a chance of getting better - it wouldn't be long anyway, he was too old.
So I let the vet do a very basic examination, and she said it wasn't something obvious and...we just looked at each other, and I said, yeah, let's let him go, now, before he hurts any more.
I was wracked for days with second-guessing, sorrow, grief. I have other dogs now, we'd already gotten another puppy before Howie died, but those dogs are not Howie. He went through everything with me, some of the hardest years of my adult life. Sometimes he was my only reason to get out of bed every day.
But one day, a few months after he died, I realized something: once he was dead, I was the only one who knew that. It was my loss, not his. That is ultimately easy for me to be comfortable with because it coincides with my beliefs about death, but even if you believe in some sort of consciousness after death, surely the consciousness would encompass the decision you had to make about treatment and prolonged suffering.
You didn't put your dog down because he didn't match your purse. You chose to do it because the risk of bad days - bad days for him - over good days had suddenly greatly increased. After having gone through it both ways, I will always always always err to the side of caution. I'd rather lose a few good days than have to live with bad days I could have prevented.
Your friend - I'll be kind - might have some internal stuff of her own coloring her perception of what happened. Or she's an asshole. In any case it's not really her place to criticize you - it's already done. I personally think you did the right thing.
posted by Lyn Never at 5:25 PM on December 8, 2010 [27 favorites]
I'm so sorry for your loss.
I had my 16yo put to sleep in April 2009 b'c she had a blockage in her sinuses and was starting to sneeze bloody snot. This November, I again had doubts about whether I did the right thing in letting her go when I did. I'm not sure that that doubt is something any of us, as pet owners who have made that decision, ever escape completely. Know that your beloved dog is comfortable now and won't face the fear and possible pain of medical treatments or ailments.
posted by LOLAttorney2009 at 5:27 PM on December 8, 2010
I had my 16yo put to sleep in April 2009 b'c she had a blockage in her sinuses and was starting to sneeze bloody snot. This November, I again had doubts about whether I did the right thing in letting her go when I did. I'm not sure that that doubt is something any of us, as pet owners who have made that decision, ever escape completely. Know that your beloved dog is comfortable now and won't face the fear and possible pain of medical treatments or ailments.
posted by LOLAttorney2009 at 5:27 PM on December 8, 2010
A friend of mine went through doing everything that could be done for their dog, it was very hard on both them and the dog at the time, and the dog died shortly after all of the treatments. He felt it would have been better not to have put the dog through all of it in the end.
Your dog's last days were happy ones. Animals don't understand invasive testing and treatments, they only know that it is painful, not that people are trying to help them. He would not have understood being marooned on his dog bed either, he would have struggled to get up over and over.
It's unfortunate your friend felt the need to criticize you like that, perhaps the situation reminded them of something difficult in their own past that they haven't emotionally dealt with.
posted by yohko at 5:28 PM on December 8, 2010
Your dog's last days were happy ones. Animals don't understand invasive testing and treatments, they only know that it is painful, not that people are trying to help them. He would not have understood being marooned on his dog bed either, he would have struggled to get up over and over.
It's unfortunate your friend felt the need to criticize you like that, perhaps the situation reminded them of something difficult in their own past that they haven't emotionally dealt with.
posted by yohko at 5:28 PM on December 8, 2010
The crappy, crappy part of being a pet owner is that no matter what, when the end comes and the decisions have to be made, you will never feel 100% at peace that it was done at the right time. It's the nature of being the caretaker for a living thing that cannot speak its mind. We can only try our hardest and do our best with the resources we have and what we know about our pet's situation. It sounds like you made a decision not to keep a sick dog in pain any longer than he had to be. That would be the decision I would have made as well.
And anyone who criticizes the hard decision you have to make has either never been there and can't understand it, or is just lacking empathy and compassion.
posted by kpht at 5:29 PM on December 8, 2010 [7 favorites]
And anyone who criticizes the hard decision you have to make has either never been there and can't understand it, or is just lacking empathy and compassion.
posted by kpht at 5:29 PM on December 8, 2010 [7 favorites]
So sorry for your loss. It's never an easy decision to decide to have a good friend put down, but it's often the most humane decision you can make. And more so, it's an intensely personal decision.
If I'm reading your question correctly, this: Later a friend criticized me harshly and and I can't help that it's been eating away at me. I feel like I failed him. is about the decision you just made, correct? If so, this is not a friend you need in your life right now (and frankly, I'd question if you need them in your life period). Kindly ask them to give you space while you grieve. As best you can, surround yourself with people that understand that you need support, not judgment.
There are quite a few pet-loss grief support hotlines and groups (some virtual). Here's a starting point for you from the SFSPCA. Take care, and remember, time will help.
posted by Ufez Jones at 5:31 PM on December 8, 2010 [2 favorites]
If I'm reading your question correctly, this: Later a friend criticized me harshly and and I can't help that it's been eating away at me. I feel like I failed him. is about the decision you just made, correct? If so, this is not a friend you need in your life right now (and frankly, I'd question if you need them in your life period). Kindly ask them to give you space while you grieve. As best you can, surround yourself with people that understand that you need support, not judgment.
There are quite a few pet-loss grief support hotlines and groups (some virtual). Here's a starting point for you from the SFSPCA. Take care, and remember, time will help.
posted by Ufez Jones at 5:31 PM on December 8, 2010 [2 favorites]
I'm so sorry. It's awful to lose a beloved pet, and it will take some time to think about him without pain.
But I think you did the very right thing for your dog. Not just a right choice -- THE right choice. As I've posted before, I've dealt with the euthanasia decision with several pets, and I am convinced that it's better to put a pet to sleep a day too early than a day too late. Having seen what my pets have gone through when I made different choices, I think that being put to sleep when things are dire but the animal is not in pain, in fear or in distress, is the absolute kindest thing you can do.
Animals live in the moment. If they're in pain NOW, that's all they know. If they're being cuddled and cherished NOW, that's all they know. Humans can take medical treatment and hope to get better: animals don't think into the future like that.
You probably hate the idea of taking even a few good hours or days away from your dog, but what odds were you willing to take that some very bad days or hours were coming up? He was very ill. He had already gone through some challenging medical treatment. His prognosis was not good. You made a choice that was way too early for you -- it's always too early for us -- but at the very worst, just a little early rather than way too late for your dog.
You did right. Please stop beating yourself up.
posted by maudlin at 5:31 PM on December 8, 2010 [4 favorites]
But I think you did the very right thing for your dog. Not just a right choice -- THE right choice. As I've posted before, I've dealt with the euthanasia decision with several pets, and I am convinced that it's better to put a pet to sleep a day too early than a day too late. Having seen what my pets have gone through when I made different choices, I think that being put to sleep when things are dire but the animal is not in pain, in fear or in distress, is the absolute kindest thing you can do.
Animals live in the moment. If they're in pain NOW, that's all they know. If they're being cuddled and cherished NOW, that's all they know. Humans can take medical treatment and hope to get better: animals don't think into the future like that.
You probably hate the idea of taking even a few good hours or days away from your dog, but what odds were you willing to take that some very bad days or hours were coming up? He was very ill. He had already gone through some challenging medical treatment. His prognosis was not good. You made a choice that was way too early for you -- it's always too early for us -- but at the very worst, just a little early rather than way too late for your dog.
You did right. Please stop beating yourself up.
posted by maudlin at 5:31 PM on December 8, 2010 [4 favorites]
My heart is breaking for you. It sounds to me like you absolutely did the right thing. I had to euthanize my dog about a year ago and my heart still breaks about it and I still wonder if we should have held on a bit longer. But I've known people that admitted they think they waited too long for their ill pets, and I personally decided it's better to err on the side of too early rather than too late. 15 years is a good, long, wonderful life. It sounds like he was lucky to have had you, because you loved him and gave him a great life and made the painful but right decision when it needed to be made.
I will hold my tongue and not comment about your "friend" criticizing you at a time like this.
posted by misskaz at 5:34 PM on December 8, 2010
I will hold my tongue and not comment about your "friend" criticizing you at a time like this.
posted by misskaz at 5:34 PM on December 8, 2010
I'm very sorry for your loss but I'm more sorry that your friend decided to be cruel and inappropriate at you when you're hurting like this. You know you did the right thing. I hope all the responses in this thread help you to feel better, although that might just take some time.
posted by amethysts at 5:34 PM on December 8, 2010
posted by amethysts at 5:34 PM on December 8, 2010
My husband and myself had to make decision to have our beloved Golden Retriever euthanized a few years ago and even though we knew it was the right thing to do, it didn't make it any less painful. I think you did the right thing for your dog. Time will heal your pain, I know what you are going through, I am so sorry for your loss.
posted by sandyp at 5:36 PM on December 8, 2010
posted by sandyp at 5:36 PM on December 8, 2010
Wish I could comfort you more than the words I offer you of sympathy and understanding. The bonds we form with our animal friends are so incredible and having lost my beloved cat tragically (he was eaten by a coyote), I can sympathize with your feeling of guilt and judgment.
People will always have their own opinion of a situation and anybody who can relate to the painful loss of a beloved knows how painful it is. Adding to that pain by offering criticism which cannot alter facts is just hateful.
I don't know if people get over those questions about what they could have done differently and how much blame to assume, but that is just another layer of natural emotion tied up with the feeling of loss. I won't be able to think about my cat without wishing I had done things differently with him, but the weight of guilt has lessened for me over time.
You loved your dog and made the decision that best honored your relationship with him. I'm touched by the the love you had for your dog and hope you will be comforted by the memories. That special and wondrous love persists.. take heart red_lotus.
posted by loquat at 5:38 PM on December 8, 2010
People will always have their own opinion of a situation and anybody who can relate to the painful loss of a beloved knows how painful it is. Adding to that pain by offering criticism which cannot alter facts is just hateful.
I don't know if people get over those questions about what they could have done differently and how much blame to assume, but that is just another layer of natural emotion tied up with the feeling of loss. I won't be able to think about my cat without wishing I had done things differently with him, but the weight of guilt has lessened for me over time.
You loved your dog and made the decision that best honored your relationship with him. I'm touched by the the love you had for your dog and hope you will be comforted by the memories. That special and wondrous love persists.. take heart red_lotus.
posted by loquat at 5:38 PM on December 8, 2010
I'm so sorry, red_lotus. I have a 14, almost 15 year old dog of my own, and although he's healthy now, I've spent the past few years trying to gird myself up for experiencing what you just went through.
So, to answer your question: I'm asking if you had to make a call in a gray area situation and how you dealt with it.
I had to do this twice in the past year or so.
The first time, my dog was lying on the floor groaning for two days without eating or drinking. We took him to two different vets, neither of whom had much of an idea what was wrong after many tests. It came down to either cancer, or pancreatitis. The vet said if it was cancer there was nothing they could do but put him down, and if it was pancreatitis, he needed to be hospitalized and receive fluids by IV. At this point over $1000 had been spent and there was no money left to hospitalize him, so I asked if it would make a difference if I gave him fluids myself subcutaneously. They said it might, and allowed me to do that. I gave him fluids round the clock for a week, and he made a full recovery. That was over a year ago.
The second episode involved a mysterious lump in his testicle -- you can read about that here if you want. I actually have a huge amount of regret over that decision, although it is several months later and he is totally healthy.
I think my natural inclination is to never give up hope, do every test, pay every dime, try every treatment. But I have needed to continually remind myself to keep that in check. These are the things I think are important/this is how I've operated in making these decisions:
-What is the cost to my dog if I try this treatment and/or don't give up now?
-What is the most likely outcome of this treatment ("most likely," not "best possible) and how does that weigh against the cost to my dog of trying it?
I would say you did a very good job as far as these two questions. You assessed the cost to your dog of keeping him alive a little longer. You assessed the likely outcome of treatment. I think you thought it through very seriously in a very sound way. You asked us not to judge your decision, and so I'm not going to say whether or not I think it was the right one --- I think your *process* in making the decision was very sound.
This is coming from a person who has spent several thousand on her dog in just the past year, and who needs to ignore every fiber of her being automatically shouting "NO!" whenever the question of euthanasia comes up. I also think your friend needs to mind her own business and owes you a very sincere apology. I would have a hard time being friends with her ever again if she did that to me.
posted by Ashley801 at 5:39 PM on December 8, 2010 [1 favorite]
So, to answer your question: I'm asking if you had to make a call in a gray area situation and how you dealt with it.
I had to do this twice in the past year or so.
The first time, my dog was lying on the floor groaning for two days without eating or drinking. We took him to two different vets, neither of whom had much of an idea what was wrong after many tests. It came down to either cancer, or pancreatitis. The vet said if it was cancer there was nothing they could do but put him down, and if it was pancreatitis, he needed to be hospitalized and receive fluids by IV. At this point over $1000 had been spent and there was no money left to hospitalize him, so I asked if it would make a difference if I gave him fluids myself subcutaneously. They said it might, and allowed me to do that. I gave him fluids round the clock for a week, and he made a full recovery. That was over a year ago.
The second episode involved a mysterious lump in his testicle -- you can read about that here if you want. I actually have a huge amount of regret over that decision, although it is several months later and he is totally healthy.
I think my natural inclination is to never give up hope, do every test, pay every dime, try every treatment. But I have needed to continually remind myself to keep that in check. These are the things I think are important/this is how I've operated in making these decisions:
-What is the cost to my dog if I try this treatment and/or don't give up now?
-What is the most likely outcome of this treatment ("most likely," not "best possible) and how does that weigh against the cost to my dog of trying it?
I would say you did a very good job as far as these two questions. You assessed the cost to your dog of keeping him alive a little longer. You assessed the likely outcome of treatment. I think you thought it through very seriously in a very sound way. You asked us not to judge your decision, and so I'm not going to say whether or not I think it was the right one --- I think your *process* in making the decision was very sound.
This is coming from a person who has spent several thousand on her dog in just the past year, and who needs to ignore every fiber of her being automatically shouting "NO!" whenever the question of euthanasia comes up. I also think your friend needs to mind her own business and owes you a very sincere apology. I would have a hard time being friends with her ever again if she did that to me.
posted by Ashley801 at 5:39 PM on December 8, 2010 [1 favorite]
I'm sorry to hear about your friend.
I had a cat in a similar situation and we waiting too long. When we finally decided it was right, he was so scared he died in the vet tech's arms as she was prepping him for euthanasia shot before we were allowed in. She was so sad that it happened and we were so sad we couldn't be there for our kittty's last moments.
If I get to play in the snow the day before I die, I think that will be a good thing. Not suffering for too long.
posted by bottlebrushtree at 5:40 PM on December 8, 2010 [3 favorites]
I had a cat in a similar situation and we waiting too long. When we finally decided it was right, he was so scared he died in the vet tech's arms as she was prepping him for euthanasia shot before we were allowed in. She was so sad that it happened and we were so sad we couldn't be there for our kittty's last moments.
If I get to play in the snow the day before I die, I think that will be a good thing. Not suffering for too long.
posted by bottlebrushtree at 5:40 PM on December 8, 2010 [3 favorites]
Your friend is an ass for criticizing your decision.
You made the right call ... take it from someone who probably waited waited too long to make the call. Please stop beating yourself up. You gave your dog a wonderful, long life.
posted by jrchaplin at 5:43 PM on December 8, 2010
You made the right call ... take it from someone who probably waited waited too long to make the call. Please stop beating yourself up. You gave your dog a wonderful, long life.
posted by jrchaplin at 5:43 PM on December 8, 2010
I'm sorry you lost your dog. You did the right thing. At that age, you can speculate and second guess how many weeks you could have bought (literally and figuratively). That time you can buy is for you, but is just pain for your companion.
Ignore your friend's comments. They'll figure it out...or not.
posted by graftole at 5:44 PM on December 8, 2010 [1 favorite]
Ignore your friend's comments. They'll figure it out...or not.
posted by graftole at 5:44 PM on December 8, 2010 [1 favorite]
I'm sorry for your loss, and I'm thankful that you kept your dog's happiness and best interest in mind.
Euthanasia is a hard choice. Even when it's very clearly the right choice, it can still feel like the wrong choice in your heart. Our culture is not very good at handling death in general, and most of us struggle to wrap our heads around the idea that, in some cases, letting go is the kinder option. What you're feeling is normal, and it does not mean you made the wrong decision. It means you cared.
posted by Metroid Baby at 5:45 PM on December 8, 2010
Euthanasia is a hard choice. Even when it's very clearly the right choice, it can still feel like the wrong choice in your heart. Our culture is not very good at handling death in general, and most of us struggle to wrap our heads around the idea that, in some cases, letting go is the kinder option. What you're feeling is normal, and it does not mean you made the wrong decision. It means you cared.
posted by Metroid Baby at 5:45 PM on December 8, 2010
In the last couple of years, I've had a number of friends and neighbors have to make the decision to euthanize an older pet who was becoming progressively sicker, but was still kinda sorta ok. After the initial pain and questioning were over (most of us at one point said "I feel like I did it too soon") each of us reached one of two conclusions: 1) I did the right thing at the right time, or 2) I did the right thing, but really I should have done it sooner because my pet was old/suffering and the extra time we got probably wasn't worth it.
Not a single person has said "I did this too soon" or "I should have done more." We all finally accepted that it was going to have to be done sooner or later, and that the later we waited, the more miserable our pets were and the greater the risk of them having some kind of traumatic death. I'd be willing to wager a lot of money that someone who takes you to task for euthanizing a sick 14-year-old dog has never been in that position (and is totally full of shit).
You did the best you could with the information you had for a pet you loved. Yes, it hurts like a sonofabitch and you are kicking yourself for not being a superhero, but you will be ok with this decision when the pain wears off. I promise.
posted by stefanie at 5:50 PM on December 8, 2010 [2 favorites]
Not a single person has said "I did this too soon" or "I should have done more." We all finally accepted that it was going to have to be done sooner or later, and that the later we waited, the more miserable our pets were and the greater the risk of them having some kind of traumatic death. I'd be willing to wager a lot of money that someone who takes you to task for euthanizing a sick 14-year-old dog has never been in that position (and is totally full of shit).
You did the best you could with the information you had for a pet you loved. Yes, it hurts like a sonofabitch and you are kicking yourself for not being a superhero, but you will be ok with this decision when the pain wears off. I promise.
posted by stefanie at 5:50 PM on December 8, 2010 [2 favorites]
I'm so sorry for your loss. Losing a pet is a special pain, and I'm tearing up just reading your note because I'm thinking of all the pets I've lost.
A pet is also a special kind of responsibility, and part of that special responsibility is often deciding when it's time to let go. Pets can't talk, so they must rely on their owners, their companions, to speak for them. And their owners are the only ones who are qualified to speak for them, to make that decision, because they're the ones who know their pets best. So ignore the "friend" who made that remark. She was no friend at all.
posted by unannihilated at 5:50 PM on December 8, 2010
A pet is also a special kind of responsibility, and part of that special responsibility is often deciding when it's time to let go. Pets can't talk, so they must rely on their owners, their companions, to speak for them. And their owners are the only ones who are qualified to speak for them, to make that decision, because they're the ones who know their pets best. So ignore the "friend" who made that remark. She was no friend at all.
posted by unannihilated at 5:50 PM on December 8, 2010
You didn't fail your dog. You made the best decision you could in a very sad situation. You knew your dog best and you were his advocate. You acted out of love. You didn't fail him. Is it possible that your friend feels guilt about a choice she made regarding a pet and took it out on you? I'm just trying to imagine what would prompt someone to do something so cruel. Whatever the motivation, it was an awful thing to do to you.
My family's cat was in a sort of gray area when we had him euthanized. I'm sure there were other choices we could have made, but we made the best decision we could in a very sad situation.
posted by Meg_Murry at 5:50 PM on December 8, 2010
My family's cat was in a sort of gray area when we had him euthanized. I'm sure there were other choices we could have made, but we made the best decision we could in a very sad situation.
posted by Meg_Murry at 5:50 PM on December 8, 2010
I would venture to say that if you were to keep him alive with severe arthritis for which he couldn't take pain medication that wouldn't make him sick, that would the the cruel thing.
posted by amro at 5:54 PM on December 8, 2010
posted by amro at 5:54 PM on December 8, 2010
I had to put a pet to sleep (he was a nine month old kitten) and it was not easy. The fact that it was right didn't make it easier (he had FIP, as it happens. This was suspected, but all the tests had been negative. What was certain was that he was getting sicker and sicker and got to the point where he would lie in his own shit because he didn
A suffering pet isn't like a suffering human. All a pet understands is that it hurts now. They don't know why it happens, they can't know if they'll get better, they can't remember happier times, they can't even take solace (if that's the right word) that one day they will die and the pain will be gone. You look at your dog and you see your best friend who would chase tennis balls until he literally dropped. Who never figured out that eating snowballs was a bad idea. Who would always bark when you played Dark Side Of The Moon and you never had any idea why. Your dog, however, sees that he is in pain. He doesn't remember chasing that stupid cat. He can't recall the time he finally caught that skunk and then... okay, perhaps it's best he forgot that.
I believe that it is the duty of a pet owner to make that call when they have to. Maybe they'll never have to. Maybe they (and their pet) will be lucky. But if you hold off because of what you remember, if you put your fears and needs ahead of the dog's needs, well, I don't think you are doing your job as a pet owner.
tl;dr - I think you did the right thing and I think your friend is an asshat
posted by It's Never Lurgi at 5:54 PM on December 8, 2010 [6 favorites]
A suffering pet isn't like a suffering human. All a pet understands is that it hurts now. They don't know why it happens, they can't know if they'll get better, they can't remember happier times, they can't even take solace (if that's the right word) that one day they will die and the pain will be gone. You look at your dog and you see your best friend who would chase tennis balls until he literally dropped. Who never figured out that eating snowballs was a bad idea. Who would always bark when you played Dark Side Of The Moon and you never had any idea why. Your dog, however, sees that he is in pain. He doesn't remember chasing that stupid cat. He can't recall the time he finally caught that skunk and then... okay, perhaps it's best he forgot that.
I believe that it is the duty of a pet owner to make that call when they have to. Maybe they'll never have to. Maybe they (and their pet) will be lucky. But if you hold off because of what you remember, if you put your fears and needs ahead of the dog's needs, well, I don't think you are doing your job as a pet owner.
tl;dr - I think you did the right thing and I think your friend is an asshat
posted by It's Never Lurgi at 5:54 PM on December 8, 2010 [6 favorites]
Yes, there is some chance more testing might have helped. But there is an equal chance that it wouldn't, and now instead of questioning whether you did it too soon, you'd be questioning whether you did it too late (and I assure you, the ones you leave too long are the ones that haunt you).
Your dog was elderly, and his future was uncertain at best. Try to remember that life at any cost is NOT the ideal, especially for animals, all they care about is the here and now, they do not understand that the blue juice is a lethal injection, they do not understand that this is their last car ride, whatever. You did not fail your dog, you had the courage to make the hardest decision when your dog needed you to. It was in your dog's best interests not to keep him going when you knew you would be unable to care for him. This is not something you undertook casually, and it is not something you should feel guilty about.
Your "friend" clearly did not have your dog's or YOUR best interests in mind when they made that harsh comment to you, generally speaking it's people who don't really understand animals who think that all that matters is keeping the pet alive, with no regard for the quality of life of either pet or owner. Try to rest easy, and remember the good times you had together, you did right by your dog and he was lucky to have you.
posted by biscotti at 6:01 PM on December 8, 2010
Your dog was elderly, and his future was uncertain at best. Try to remember that life at any cost is NOT the ideal, especially for animals, all they care about is the here and now, they do not understand that the blue juice is a lethal injection, they do not understand that this is their last car ride, whatever. You did not fail your dog, you had the courage to make the hardest decision when your dog needed you to. It was in your dog's best interests not to keep him going when you knew you would be unable to care for him. This is not something you undertook casually, and it is not something you should feel guilty about.
Your "friend" clearly did not have your dog's or YOUR best interests in mind when they made that harsh comment to you, generally speaking it's people who don't really understand animals who think that all that matters is keeping the pet alive, with no regard for the quality of life of either pet or owner. Try to rest easy, and remember the good times you had together, you did right by your dog and he was lucky to have you.
posted by biscotti at 6:01 PM on December 8, 2010
An almost 15 yr old large epileptic, arthritic dog collapses? Oh, honey . . . that's a no-brainer. He was a lucky boy, he had a long beautiful life with someone who adored him every single day -- what more can any of us ask?
I know when I made the decision to euthanize my 18.5 yr old cat . . . it killed me. I *knew* it was the right thing, I had been terrified and preparing for the day since he'd turned TEN, that's a lot of preparation . . . but still I missed him so much that I spent the first couple weeks crying "What did I do?!? What was I thinking? How could I have let him go?" I think it's an inherent side-effect of making that decision, you second guess yourself -- if not from a medical perspective, then from the perspective of aching for your furry friend.
I am so, so sorry for your loss.
posted by MeiraV at 6:02 PM on December 8, 2010 [1 favorite]
I know when I made the decision to euthanize my 18.5 yr old cat . . . it killed me. I *knew* it was the right thing, I had been terrified and preparing for the day since he'd turned TEN, that's a lot of preparation . . . but still I missed him so much that I spent the first couple weeks crying "What did I do?!? What was I thinking? How could I have let him go?" I think it's an inherent side-effect of making that decision, you second guess yourself -- if not from a medical perspective, then from the perspective of aching for your furry friend.
I am so, so sorry for your loss.
posted by MeiraV at 6:02 PM on December 8, 2010 [1 favorite]
I've been in a similar situation.
It's almost always a grey area because it almost has to be a grey area. If you let it go so long that it's no longer a grey area, until the animal is suffering so much that there's no choice but to euthanize it, or until it dies from its ailments and injuries, you've waited too long.
You made the choice with love in your heart and your animal's comfort in mind. You did the right thing.
posted by lore at 6:08 PM on December 8, 2010 [8 favorites]
It's almost always a grey area because it almost has to be a grey area. If you let it go so long that it's no longer a grey area, until the animal is suffering so much that there's no choice but to euthanize it, or until it dies from its ailments and injuries, you've waited too long.
You made the choice with love in your heart and your animal's comfort in mind. You did the right thing.
posted by lore at 6:08 PM on December 8, 2010 [8 favorites]
I am sorry to hear about your loss. It's been two years since one of my budgies died and I have often wondered if I did the right thing for him too. He passed away while I was at work and I felt so bad that I wasn't there to help him. He had good vet care, but there's only so much even an avian vet can do. He had a tumour.
Have you tried seeing if there is a local pet loss group in your area? I wish there was something I could say, but only time has made me feel better.
posted by Calzephyr at 6:09 PM on December 8, 2010
Have you tried seeing if there is a local pet loss group in your area? I wish there was something I could say, but only time has made me feel better.
posted by Calzephyr at 6:09 PM on December 8, 2010
The day before he had briefly played in the snow.
I'm so glad he got to spend his last full day on the Earth happy and a part of it. You absolutely did the right thing. That doesn't mean it's easy--it's never easy. But having recently watched a relative dig in their heels regarding euthanasia as their elderly dog went blind, became incontinent, and had a series of seizures--and refuse to pursue even palliative vet treatment because they didn't believe in putting down dogs and they knew their vet would recommend it--I think you absolutely did the right thing. Your dog was a loyal friend, and wouldn't want you to risk your own health to care for him, or feel bad that you couldn't. He also would have wanted to spend those last days happy, as he did, not miserable or in pain or confused.
Shame on your friend for not supporting you right now. You did the ethical, kind, and correct thing, truly, and have nothing to feel bad about.
posted by PhoBWanKenobi at 6:11 PM on December 8, 2010 [2 favorites]
I'm so glad he got to spend his last full day on the Earth happy and a part of it. You absolutely did the right thing. That doesn't mean it's easy--it's never easy. But having recently watched a relative dig in their heels regarding euthanasia as their elderly dog went blind, became incontinent, and had a series of seizures--and refuse to pursue even palliative vet treatment because they didn't believe in putting down dogs and they knew their vet would recommend it--I think you absolutely did the right thing. Your dog was a loyal friend, and wouldn't want you to risk your own health to care for him, or feel bad that you couldn't. He also would have wanted to spend those last days happy, as he did, not miserable or in pain or confused.
Shame on your friend for not supporting you right now. You did the ethical, kind, and correct thing, truly, and have nothing to feel bad about.
posted by PhoBWanKenobi at 6:11 PM on December 8, 2010 [2 favorites]
I am so sorry for your loss - this is very hard and it will take a long time for you to see this in perspective.
I had to deal with exactly the same situation - an old dog, suffering from really bad arthritis in his spine, who had a series of (in this case) strokes, which left him increasingly debilitated until one day he collapsed and was unable to walk ... obviously with another stroke. The decision to have him euthanized was so hard, as he had always recovered from his previous strokes, although each time he had been left more debilitated. What clinched the decision was that he had suffered so much and he was obviously struggling to cope with the arthritis. I could not put him through more suffering now. When he had had his previous strokes, he had been relatively fit and able to struggle to his feet. But even then, he has cried when he could not get up on his own and had needed a lot of company and reassurance - we had to carry him everywhere for weeks until he was mobile again. Now he was seriously disabled and I just could not put him through any more. He wasn't strong enough -- he would be in pain and even more distress as he struggled to cope and could not.
So I totally understand your decision. In the previous months and after previous attacks, I had asked the vet if our dog was in pain and he had always answered that the dog would let us know when it was time. In the end, he did let us know -- just as your dog let you know. You will often grieve at this decision later, just as I did, wondering if you did the right thing. But in the end, you had to do what was right for your dog, not for yourself. Your critical friend did not know and love your dog as you did. Your dog would have been in distress and unable to fend for himself - and you would have been unable to help him, which would have increased his distress.
For myself, I take comfort in the idea that my Max is waiting at the rainbow bridge for me ... and that in the meantime, he will have surely found a ball to chew ... :-)
posted by Susurration at 6:11 PM on December 8, 2010
I had to deal with exactly the same situation - an old dog, suffering from really bad arthritis in his spine, who had a series of (in this case) strokes, which left him increasingly debilitated until one day he collapsed and was unable to walk ... obviously with another stroke. The decision to have him euthanized was so hard, as he had always recovered from his previous strokes, although each time he had been left more debilitated. What clinched the decision was that he had suffered so much and he was obviously struggling to cope with the arthritis. I could not put him through more suffering now. When he had had his previous strokes, he had been relatively fit and able to struggle to his feet. But even then, he has cried when he could not get up on his own and had needed a lot of company and reassurance - we had to carry him everywhere for weeks until he was mobile again. Now he was seriously disabled and I just could not put him through any more. He wasn't strong enough -- he would be in pain and even more distress as he struggled to cope and could not.
So I totally understand your decision. In the previous months and after previous attacks, I had asked the vet if our dog was in pain and he had always answered that the dog would let us know when it was time. In the end, he did let us know -- just as your dog let you know. You will often grieve at this decision later, just as I did, wondering if you did the right thing. But in the end, you had to do what was right for your dog, not for yourself. Your critical friend did not know and love your dog as you did. Your dog would have been in distress and unable to fend for himself - and you would have been unable to help him, which would have increased his distress.
For myself, I take comfort in the idea that my Max is waiting at the rainbow bridge for me ... and that in the meantime, he will have surely found a ball to chew ... :-)
posted by Susurration at 6:11 PM on December 8, 2010
Ask your friend what they would have done differently. People who value companionship over the actual welfare of the animal are selfish and delusional. Letting an animal die in misery because you want to be able to say you "did everything possible" is self-serving.
Props for having the guts to spare your dog a confusing and painful descent into debility. Your pet had a good life, you didn't let him suffer, and grieving is natural.
posted by benzenedream at 6:16 PM on December 8, 2010 [1 favorite]
Props for having the guts to spare your dog a confusing and painful descent into debility. Your pet had a good life, you didn't let him suffer, and grieving is natural.
posted by benzenedream at 6:16 PM on December 8, 2010 [1 favorite]
You asked that people not judge your decision, so I won't.
What I will say is that I think you made the decision well. Please let go of any idea that you rushed into it, or didn't consider it fully enough, or anything like that. From what you've written, it sounds like you considered all the information that was available and then made what you perceived to be the best, most loving, most compassionate choice for your dog. I don't think there's anything more that anybody could do than that.
It is so, so hard. My deepest sympathies.
posted by Lexica at 6:19 PM on December 8, 2010
What I will say is that I think you made the decision well. Please let go of any idea that you rushed into it, or didn't consider it fully enough, or anything like that. From what you've written, it sounds like you considered all the information that was available and then made what you perceived to be the best, most loving, most compassionate choice for your dog. I don't think there's anything more that anybody could do than that.
It is so, so hard. My deepest sympathies.
posted by Lexica at 6:19 PM on December 8, 2010
Adding my condolences. This is so, so hard.
I had to make this decision with my dog a few years ago. I now think I waited too long, but at the time I felt like it was too soon. I had agonized over the decision so much, once talking through the night with a vet who was kind enough to call me while she was in the emergency clinic. I really thought I had a clear idea of how far I would let things go, and stuck to that as much as possible, and still felt a failure in the end. I don't feel a failure any more, and I don't think you will either, after a little time goes by.
How lovely that he played in the snow. Hold onto that picture and let the other good ones join it.
posted by BibiRose at 6:45 PM on December 8, 2010
I had to make this decision with my dog a few years ago. I now think I waited too long, but at the time I felt like it was too soon. I had agonized over the decision so much, once talking through the night with a vet who was kind enough to call me while she was in the emergency clinic. I really thought I had a clear idea of how far I would let things go, and stuck to that as much as possible, and still felt a failure in the end. I don't feel a failure any more, and I don't think you will either, after a little time goes by.
How lovely that he played in the snow. Hold onto that picture and let the other good ones join it.
posted by BibiRose at 6:45 PM on December 8, 2010
I'm sorry. I had a cat in late stages of terminal cancer that I had put to sleep. Her skin was coming off when I tried to brush her hair...I knew without a doubt that the greatest kindness for her was to ease her out of life with the help of a vet...and still I feel the same guilt and horror at my decisions that you do.
Some fights you can't win, and some decisions your heart will always revile you for, even when your brain knows that the facts add up to a horrible future. My suggestion would be, bury your pet with love. Do something with his remains that will help you think in kindly ways when you think of him. With Emma, it was taking the trouble to bury her in a place that I knew she loved. That way, when I think of her, my mind turns to the happiness she found in that place, rather than how it ended.
If you don't have the remains, perhaps using something of his, like a favorite ball or a collar, might help as a way to "bury" him with loving memories.
posted by Ys at 6:52 PM on December 8, 2010
Some fights you can't win, and some decisions your heart will always revile you for, even when your brain knows that the facts add up to a horrible future. My suggestion would be, bury your pet with love. Do something with his remains that will help you think in kindly ways when you think of him. With Emma, it was taking the trouble to bury her in a place that I knew she loved. That way, when I think of her, my mind turns to the happiness she found in that place, rather than how it ended.
If you don't have the remains, perhaps using something of his, like a favorite ball or a collar, might help as a way to "bury" him with loving memories.
posted by Ys at 6:52 PM on December 8, 2010
The fact that you are even troubled by and conflicted over your decision (which seems thoroughly humane to me, FWIW) suggests that your intentions were noble and that you are self-aware enough to have acted with the best interests of your pooch in mind. If you are looking for permission to grieve, you do not need it. It was, as you say, a tough call. But you made it with the best interests of your departed companion in mind. You did the right thing. And, if it makes you feel any better, I am paid (albeit poorly) to analyze issues of an ethical matter on a daily basis. You did what you could with what you have where you are. Do not beat yourself up over this. Treasure the good times and memories.
posted by joe lisboa at 6:56 PM on December 8, 2010
posted by joe lisboa at 6:56 PM on December 8, 2010
I'm not asking if you think it's the right one, but I'm asking if you had to make a call in a gray area situation and how you dealt with it. Thanks.
Oops. Somehow missed this. In that case, yes I have and I dealt with it in terms of my previous comment. You did what you thought was your obligation in the circumstances as they were. To have acted otherwise would have been to act contrary to your sense of what you were obligated to do, again, given the circumstances. Thus, dealing with your action involves letting go of any residual guilt you may feel over woulda-coulda rationalizations.
posted by joe lisboa at 7:00 PM on December 8, 2010
Oops. Somehow missed this. In that case, yes I have and I dealt with it in terms of my previous comment. You did what you thought was your obligation in the circumstances as they were. To have acted otherwise would have been to act contrary to your sense of what you were obligated to do, again, given the circumstances. Thus, dealing with your action involves letting go of any residual guilt you may feel over woulda-coulda rationalizations.
posted by joe lisboa at 7:00 PM on December 8, 2010
I'm so sorry for your loss.
The similar decision I made still eats at me today, but for the opposite reason. I waited too long, and my beloved 20 year old cat suffered greatly her last couple days because I couldn't accept that she was really ready to let go.
Props to you for sparing your dog that suffering, and for making the decision you felt you needed to make, and at the time the decision had to be made at. You did the right thing, simply because you did it out of love for your pet, and because you believed it was in your pets best interests. That's all we can do for our furry life-mates, and it's all they ever ask from us.
Virtual hugs to you from myself and the three kitties currently vying for my precious lap space, as I'm reminded that at some time in the future, and sooner than I like, I'm going to have to make similar decisions for each of them. I hope I have the same courage you did.
posted by cgg at 7:01 PM on December 8, 2010
The similar decision I made still eats at me today, but for the opposite reason. I waited too long, and my beloved 20 year old cat suffered greatly her last couple days because I couldn't accept that she was really ready to let go.
Props to you for sparing your dog that suffering, and for making the decision you felt you needed to make, and at the time the decision had to be made at. You did the right thing, simply because you did it out of love for your pet, and because you believed it was in your pets best interests. That's all we can do for our furry life-mates, and it's all they ever ask from us.
Virtual hugs to you from myself and the three kitties currently vying for my precious lap space, as I'm reminded that at some time in the future, and sooner than I like, I'm going to have to make similar decisions for each of them. I hope I have the same courage you did.
posted by cgg at 7:01 PM on December 8, 2010
I'm so sorry for your loss. How sad that your beloved dog was so ill.
And how inappropriate for your friend to judge your decision, let alone to scold you about it. Presumably that person was projecting some sorrow or anger from their own life onto your decision, so I have compassion for them about that bit, but it was still thoughtless for them to vent it on you in this time of loss.
All best thoughts to you.
posted by Sidhedevil at 7:01 PM on December 8, 2010
And how inappropriate for your friend to judge your decision, let alone to scold you about it. Presumably that person was projecting some sorrow or anger from their own life onto your decision, so I have compassion for them about that bit, but it was still thoughtless for them to vent it on you in this time of loss.
All best thoughts to you.
posted by Sidhedevil at 7:01 PM on December 8, 2010
Like many others here, I think your friend is either an idiot or is projecting.
I'm so sorry that you've been going through so much pain. We once made the same decision as you under similar circumstances with a beloved cat, and went through a period of grief and guilt. The way I got through it was partly to remember the happy times, but also to think about what we had saved her. She was such an active, happy cat; in her illness she was missing out on so much that she loved to do, and it wasn't going to get better. If she had deteriorated much more she would have become miserable. And like you, we've had animals that have gone through long periods of vet visits and stressful testing and died anyway. You spared your dog that.
Your dog had a good life with a human he adored, who had a wonderful bond with him, who looked after him throughout lots of illness and discomfort and who was unselfish and loving enough to let him go to sleep peacefully before his quality of life deteriorated completely. A human who loves him enough now to grieve and to worry whether it was the right thing to do. He had a better life than so many other dogs, he went in peace, and he knew he was loved. That's as much as any of us can hope for at the end of our lives really.
posted by andraste at 7:08 PM on December 8, 2010 [2 favorites]
I'm so sorry that you've been going through so much pain. We once made the same decision as you under similar circumstances with a beloved cat, and went through a period of grief and guilt. The way I got through it was partly to remember the happy times, but also to think about what we had saved her. She was such an active, happy cat; in her illness she was missing out on so much that she loved to do, and it wasn't going to get better. If she had deteriorated much more she would have become miserable. And like you, we've had animals that have gone through long periods of vet visits and stressful testing and died anyway. You spared your dog that.
Your dog had a good life with a human he adored, who had a wonderful bond with him, who looked after him throughout lots of illness and discomfort and who was unselfish and loving enough to let him go to sleep peacefully before his quality of life deteriorated completely. A human who loves him enough now to grieve and to worry whether it was the right thing to do. He had a better life than so many other dogs, he went in peace, and he knew he was loved. That's as much as any of us can hope for at the end of our lives really.
posted by andraste at 7:08 PM on December 8, 2010 [2 favorites]
We made the decision to put down our almost 18 (!!!!) year old first baby this summer, she had advanced cushing's and was having seizures. It was gut wrenching but we took solace that she went easily. We had her cremated and I had two beads made from a bit of her cremains at a site I found online. I was worried about it at first, that my 10 yr old daughter might be disturbed by the thought. I gave it to her, we cried, had lots of great memories about Holly and I'm so glad I did it. Those beads are a treasured part of our bracelets and was a great choice to help keep her close to us. Maybe doing something similar as a memory or tribute will help you to grieve. Thoughts are with you....this is such a tough thing but you did what was best for your pet.
posted by pearlybob at 7:25 PM on December 8, 2010
posted by pearlybob at 7:25 PM on December 8, 2010
You gave your beloved pet a good death, before there was nothing but suffering in his life. The day before, he briefly played in the snow? That's awesome--love and joy at the end. He had a good life, and a good death. You did the right thing. I would have done the same thing in your situation.
posted by Savannah at 7:28 PM on December 8, 2010
posted by Savannah at 7:28 PM on December 8, 2010
I wonder what in your friend's experience would have made her/him say such a horribly hurtful thing to you. You did what you thought was right and what your vet, who deals with this situation enough to be considered an expert in it, thought was right as well.
Your job right now as a compassionate dog parent is to grieve and, unfortunately, part of that process is often feeling guilty. Our job, as your friends, is to tell you not to feel guilty and that you did the right thing based on our personal experiences. Your friend failed in their duty to you. They probably have something in their past that made this situation a big, red button push for them. Pets taken to the vet by others who never came back, stories of animals put down for convenience, even people in their lives who didn't get the medical attention they needed or a fear that someone will pull the plug on them before they are ready.
I guess my point is that your friend's reaction is aberrant behavior and "it's not you, it's them". There is no way to know the perfect time to euthanize a pet, if you had waited longer you may have friends who would be wondering "why doesn't she put that poor thing out of it's misery?" You did the right thing. I'm so sorry for your loss.
posted by BoscosMom at 7:33 PM on December 8, 2010
Your job right now as a compassionate dog parent is to grieve and, unfortunately, part of that process is often feeling guilty. Our job, as your friends, is to tell you not to feel guilty and that you did the right thing based on our personal experiences. Your friend failed in their duty to you. They probably have something in their past that made this situation a big, red button push for them. Pets taken to the vet by others who never came back, stories of animals put down for convenience, even people in their lives who didn't get the medical attention they needed or a fear that someone will pull the plug on them before they are ready.
I guess my point is that your friend's reaction is aberrant behavior and "it's not you, it's them". There is no way to know the perfect time to euthanize a pet, if you had waited longer you may have friends who would be wondering "why doesn't she put that poor thing out of it's misery?" You did the right thing. I'm so sorry for your loss.
posted by BoscosMom at 7:33 PM on December 8, 2010
I have had the same gnawing feeling of guilt after putting animals down who were in the end stages of terminal diseases. I think it's just a natural part of euthanasia and that second guessing is inevitable.
So sorry for your loss. :(
posted by Addlepated at 7:37 PM on December 8, 2010
So sorry for your loss. :(
posted by Addlepated at 7:37 PM on December 8, 2010
Response by poster: Wow, thanks so much for all of the comments. There really are a lot of conscientious, caring people here! Thank you for sharing all of your stories of loss, and thanks to all of you for taking such loving care of your animals.
Reading through this has really helped me clarify my thoughts. I didn't realize how it important it was to me that he didn't have a lot of horrible days for the hope a few good ones, and that seems to be the consensus here. I feel better.
I've spoken to my friend and her words were said in grief, and she's apologized. She's had a rough time of it in life and I hadn't realized how much she'd bonded with my dog; she's never had one and the euthanasia process is new to her as is the grieving process.
My dog was a "senior" shelter adoptee and I only had a few years with him. He was one of those benevolent, passive dogs that are motivated by their sheer love of people. He became beloved by most everyone who met him. A lot of my friends she a tear at the news.
Again, thanks to all. You've really helped me.
posted by red_lotus at 7:40 PM on December 8, 2010
Reading through this has really helped me clarify my thoughts. I didn't realize how it important it was to me that he didn't have a lot of horrible days for the hope a few good ones, and that seems to be the consensus here. I feel better.
I've spoken to my friend and her words were said in grief, and she's apologized. She's had a rough time of it in life and I hadn't realized how much she'd bonded with my dog; she's never had one and the euthanasia process is new to her as is the grieving process.
My dog was a "senior" shelter adoptee and I only had a few years with him. He was one of those benevolent, passive dogs that are motivated by their sheer love of people. He became beloved by most everyone who met him. A lot of my friends she a tear at the news.
Again, thanks to all. You've really helped me.
posted by red_lotus at 7:40 PM on December 8, 2010
I've had to make the call twice this fall, and both times were terrible. I am comforted that I did look at the whole situation and decided on what was best for my pet. It was miserably sad for me but it was best for both of them. The dog's condition was deteriorating and the horse couldn't be treated. It would have been no kindness to try to prolong their lives, just because I would miss them when they were gone. And I do miss them more than I can convey, and I feel guilt and grief that I had to make the decision at all.
But I am comforted that it was in their best interest, that I thought of them when making the decision. It sounds like that's what you did, too. You thought of him. You considered everything and you thought of him.
posted by galadriel at 8:06 PM on December 8, 2010
But I am comforted that it was in their best interest, that I thought of them when making the decision. It sounds like that's what you did, too. You thought of him. You considered everything and you thought of him.
posted by galadriel at 8:06 PM on December 8, 2010
Best answer: I am so very sorry for your loss.
I'm glad your friend apologized for her unsympathetic comments.
We have a 15-year-old dog with chronic health issues, though they are currently well managed and he has a great quality of life for now. So we've had several discussions with our vet, and one thing she's said really stuck with me. She said that for all the pets she's ever cared for at the end of their natural lives, she's never seen someone make this decision too early. In fact, she sometimes finds it necessary to (kindly, gently) intervene when people want to keep fighting and trying to keep their pet alive, when it's clear that it is not going to work and the pet is suffering with no hope of relief in this life. We have a deal that she'll do her best to not let us get to that point.
You made the hard decision, and you chose not to have your dog's pain and suffering prolonged, even though it has clearly brought you great sadness. I look at it this way: by keeping animals (particularly dogs) as domestic pets, we've greatly reduced their natural ability to find a quiet place to lay down and pass away naturally. Because of that, we have a responsibility to recognize when it is the right time, and help them get to that place as kindly and peacefully as possible. You did that.
posted by Lulu's Pink Converse at 8:06 PM on December 8, 2010 [4 favorites]
I'm glad your friend apologized for her unsympathetic comments.
We have a 15-year-old dog with chronic health issues, though they are currently well managed and he has a great quality of life for now. So we've had several discussions with our vet, and one thing she's said really stuck with me. She said that for all the pets she's ever cared for at the end of their natural lives, she's never seen someone make this decision too early. In fact, she sometimes finds it necessary to (kindly, gently) intervene when people want to keep fighting and trying to keep their pet alive, when it's clear that it is not going to work and the pet is suffering with no hope of relief in this life. We have a deal that she'll do her best to not let us get to that point.
You made the hard decision, and you chose not to have your dog's pain and suffering prolonged, even though it has clearly brought you great sadness. I look at it this way: by keeping animals (particularly dogs) as domestic pets, we've greatly reduced their natural ability to find a quiet place to lay down and pass away naturally. Because of that, we have a responsibility to recognize when it is the right time, and help them get to that place as kindly and peacefully as possible. You did that.
posted by Lulu's Pink Converse at 8:06 PM on December 8, 2010 [4 favorites]
This is just restating what others have said but it feels like the type of question that multiple answers, no matter how similar, might help with.
Euthanasia (for any living thing) -- or really any end of life are decisions painful and personal -- that are different for any situation, but I think there are two rules that always apply:
decisions should be as made private and personally as the loved one wants, and
most importantly, the end resultsmade by the caregiver should be supported, no matter how you feel about it now .
Hopefully remember the following to get you through this -- if not now, then soon:
In a situation filled with multiple choices, all bad, and it sounds to me like you made the selfless one that may have caused you more pain than some of the others.
You bravely made what was a hard decision before the pet you loved had to suffer any longer, even though "waiting it out" might have looked, in the eyes of others - and even possibly feels now to you -- like the "easiest" one. What you did was the least painful for your loyal 4-legged friend. Dogs don't comprehend "This will be my car ride", This is my last rest", "I'll never get to #2 in this spot again." But you could have -- but at what cost? Increased pain and suffering for a few more of these moments for you. Doesn't seem worth it to me, and hopefully you'll feel that way eventually.
*To put your friend's breakage of these rules keep in this in mind. These issues are hot button topics for many people, and though your friend was wrong, realize that it probably comes from a sincere pet-loving place. If this is a friend you want to keep, point this out sometime. But long after the grieving, to explain how this upset you.
posted by MCMikeNamara at 8:12 PM on December 8, 2010
Euthanasia (for any living thing) -- or really any end of life are decisions painful and personal -- that are different for any situation, but I think there are two rules that always apply:
Hopefully remember the following to get you through this -- if not now, then soon:
In a situation filled with multiple choices, all bad, and it sounds to me like you made the selfless one that may have caused you more pain than some of the others.
You bravely made what was a hard decision before the pet you loved had to suffer any longer, even though "waiting it out" might have looked, in the eyes of others - and even possibly feels now to you -- like the "easiest" one. What you did was the least painful for your loyal 4-legged friend. Dogs don't comprehend "This will be my car ride", This is my last rest", "I'll never get to #2 in this spot again." But you could have -- but at what cost? Increased pain and suffering for a few more of these moments for you. Doesn't seem worth it to me, and hopefully you'll feel that way eventually.
*To put your friend's breakage of these rules keep in this in mind. These issues are hot button topics for many people, and though your friend was wrong, realize that it probably comes from a sincere pet-loving place. If this is a friend you want to keep, point this out sometime. But long after the grieving, to explain how this upset you.
posted by MCMikeNamara at 8:12 PM on December 8, 2010
Okay, you've heard it before but I'll add to it: You did the right thing. And the fact that he was a senior shelter dog and you took him home and loved him for all the time you had together? Wonderful. A true mitzvah. How blessed he was to have found you!
posted by BlahLaLa at 8:22 PM on December 8, 2010 [1 favorite]
posted by BlahLaLa at 8:22 PM on December 8, 2010 [1 favorite]
You acted from love, and THAT IS THE BEST THING. I am truly sorry for your loss. I also hope your "friend" suffers some non-permanent but painful and embarrassing condition, as retribution for being A TERRIBLE FUCKTARD.
I should be sorry for wishing that. But I'm not.
posted by cyndigo at 9:07 PM on December 8, 2010
I should be sorry for wishing that. But I'm not.
posted by cyndigo at 9:07 PM on December 8, 2010
Response by poster: @ BlahLaLa - thank you. It was no mitzvah, *I* was the one who was blessed to have such a devoted, patient friend in my life.
posted by red_lotus at 9:22 PM on December 8, 2010
posted by red_lotus at 9:22 PM on December 8, 2010
I'm so sorry for your loss. I had to euthanise one of my cats just a few months ago, and it was SO hard to do. I now know it was the best decision, and not too early, but its impossible not to worry over that immediately before and after.
As I mourned my beautiful boy, the most helpful thing that somebody said to me was this - when we euthanise a sick pet, we take their pain as our own in our hearts. We put an end to their suffering and that is the best way to love them.
posted by Joh at 9:33 PM on December 8, 2010
As I mourned my beautiful boy, the most helpful thing that somebody said to me was this - when we euthanise a sick pet, we take their pain as our own in our hearts. We put an end to their suffering and that is the best way to love them.
posted by Joh at 9:33 PM on December 8, 2010
Five years ago I had to put my wonderful, loving Hot-dog down. She had started to withdraw from the world, and once the vet told me her body was starting to shut down it was simply time.
I think of Hot-dog every day. I miss her terribly.
When I took her to the vet's for the last time I held it together for her and held her in my lap when she had the last injection. I talked with her about how good it was to play at the beach and how nice a fire was in the stove, and held her.
She had an odd habit of making an indrawn-breath noise when she anticipated something delightful: "buzz-buzz". That is the last sound she ever made. I suspect it meant she was so high from the cocktail that she saw nothing beyond delight. Whenever it was that her mental function finally shut down, her old filmy eyes were locked on mine.
And damn, I miss her and I tear up writing this.
She was completely blind, and she navigated by the eucalyptus oil I put on her dog door, and by her memory. No matter how tired she was, her tail always thumped when she knew I was there. I thought a thousand times "maybe it was too soon".
But she was old, and tired, and she -hurt-. She didn't pay any more attention to the cat, or the Other Dog, and she needed to let go.
There is a time that you can catch, if you're lucky, and I think you were as I was. There was nothing to gain from more time, and an eternity of pain. Her rocking-horse gait was gone. Her delight in her toys was gone. All she had left was her warm little Nest, and me, and she stayed there because everything else hurt and confused her.
I feel so very, very sad that she is gone, and yet I am OK with the fact that she was not living any more, she was just. waiting. It was hard for me to accept that the Dog Stuff she did was all in the past and she was just. waiting. She needed me to help her let go and it hurt as much as anything I have endured, and I owed it to her.
You done good.
I'm so sorry.
posted by jet_silver at 9:46 PM on December 8, 2010 [7 favorites]
I think of Hot-dog every day. I miss her terribly.
When I took her to the vet's for the last time I held it together for her and held her in my lap when she had the last injection. I talked with her about how good it was to play at the beach and how nice a fire was in the stove, and held her.
She had an odd habit of making an indrawn-breath noise when she anticipated something delightful: "buzz-buzz". That is the last sound she ever made. I suspect it meant she was so high from the cocktail that she saw nothing beyond delight. Whenever it was that her mental function finally shut down, her old filmy eyes were locked on mine.
And damn, I miss her and I tear up writing this.
She was completely blind, and she navigated by the eucalyptus oil I put on her dog door, and by her memory. No matter how tired she was, her tail always thumped when she knew I was there. I thought a thousand times "maybe it was too soon".
But she was old, and tired, and she -hurt-. She didn't pay any more attention to the cat, or the Other Dog, and she needed to let go.
There is a time that you can catch, if you're lucky, and I think you were as I was. There was nothing to gain from more time, and an eternity of pain. Her rocking-horse gait was gone. Her delight in her toys was gone. All she had left was her warm little Nest, and me, and she stayed there because everything else hurt and confused her.
I feel so very, very sad that she is gone, and yet I am OK with the fact that she was not living any more, she was just. waiting. It was hard for me to accept that the Dog Stuff she did was all in the past and she was just. waiting. She needed me to help her let go and it hurt as much as anything I have endured, and I owed it to her.
You done good.
I'm so sorry.
posted by jet_silver at 9:46 PM on December 8, 2010 [7 favorites]
Our beloved cat developed emphysema. We'd been to the vet. We knew the end was near. The vet said that he was suffering needlessly, but we couldn't bring ourself to put him to sleep. We took him home - and spent the entire night listening to him hiding under the bed, struggling to breathe. We let him sit in the sun in the morning, then had him euthanized. It took seconds. We bawled for a day - partly for the loss, but a big part was realising that we'd needlessly and selfishly prolonged his suffering to suit our own needs.
So, you did the hard thing, which was the right thing.
posted by obiwanwasabi at 3:04 AM on December 9, 2010
So, you did the hard thing, which was the right thing.
posted by obiwanwasabi at 3:04 AM on December 9, 2010
A decision like this one is always a grey area. My parents had our old cat put down recently, and encountered the same questions about whether it was too soon, and if there was more that could have been done. The reasoning they had was that, like you, they couldn't see any real quality of life for the cat in the future. It would have just been a case of prolonging the inevitable, and allowing more pain and suffering to happen (the cat had cancer). For what it's worth i think you did the right thing and I hope you can take comfort from all the affirmations written here. You obviously loved your dog and made a tough choice in his best interests.
posted by Franny26 at 4:49 AM on December 9, 2010
posted by Franny26 at 4:49 AM on December 9, 2010
I'm glad you were able to clarify things with the friend who was angry at you.
My personal opinion is that we owe it to our best buddies not to let them suffer at the end. We can't ask them what they would prefer, we have to make the call for them. I believe that you have to weigh up whether you would be making the decision to pursue treatment because it would be better for them, or because it would be better for you.
Cry and grieve as much as you need to. You've lost a dear friend. I think it's wonderful that he was able to play in the snow the day before he passed on. Sadness and regret and 'if only' are a part of grief, and being the one who made the final call just makes it harder.
My experience is that you can't know for sure if it was too early, but by God you know if you left it too late. And you didn't leave it too late.
posted by rubbish bin night at 5:43 AM on December 9, 2010
My personal opinion is that we owe it to our best buddies not to let them suffer at the end. We can't ask them what they would prefer, we have to make the call for them. I believe that you have to weigh up whether you would be making the decision to pursue treatment because it would be better for them, or because it would be better for you.
Cry and grieve as much as you need to. You've lost a dear friend. I think it's wonderful that he was able to play in the snow the day before he passed on. Sadness and regret and 'if only' are a part of grief, and being the one who made the final call just makes it harder.
My experience is that you can't know for sure if it was too early, but by God you know if you left it too late. And you didn't leave it too late.
posted by rubbish bin night at 5:43 AM on December 9, 2010
I've had to put down the dog of my youth - the girl who grew up with me for 15+ years. She was a member of our family. Its not a task I would wish on my worst enemy.
The fact that your dog could die a painless, quick death isn't just a good thing or the right choice. Its an additional mercy you did as a parting gift for your friend - not all animals get such loving owners as you to do them that last good turn. Good on you.
"You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us." - Robert Louis Stevenson
posted by allkindsoftime at 6:20 AM on December 9, 2010 [1 favorite]
The fact that your dog could die a painless, quick death isn't just a good thing or the right choice. Its an additional mercy you did as a parting gift for your friend - not all animals get such loving owners as you to do them that last good turn. Good on you.
"You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us." - Robert Louis Stevenson
posted by allkindsoftime at 6:20 AM on December 9, 2010 [1 favorite]
I had to help one of my cats go last week. She was young (around 3yo) but had tested positive for feline leukemia virus at her first vet visit after I found her. I've raised FELV cats before and never had such a short time with one of them (my oldest lived to 11yo and was FELV positive for most of her life), so having this one go as quickly as she did was very painful.
She'd been having some breathing problems and I thought she just had a respiratory infection. When I took her to the vet, she had to stay there for three days to get fluid drained out of her chest and for observation afterwards. Turned out that she'd developed lymphoma. The vet said well, we can help her go right now or we can give her a steroid and see how well things turn out--there's about a 50-50 chance it'll keep her comfortable for a few more weeks. Since she was obviously better after the fluid drain, I went with the steroid option and brought her home. My metrics for doing so were: if she a) doesn't want to eat, b) doesn't want to be petted and cuddled anymore, and/or c) is struggling noticeably for breath, I was going to take her back and ask for euthanasia.
Those were very concrete measures and they worked very well in helping me decide. (My husband also helped me, as this was far more my cat than his and he could be more objective about it.) We had a few good days at home; she asked to be held and cuddled a lot and I did as much as she wanted. She ate enthusiastically and I gave her special food. Five days later she wanted to be held for a short time in the evening, then climbed on the back of the couch and looked me right in the eyes. I honestly believe that she was saying goodbye then. In the morning, she didn't want to eat anymore and hid herself away rather than staying out with the family, and by evening she was having trouble breathing. I called the vet the next morning and went in with her for the procedure.
It was difficult and I'm still struggling but I honestly do believe it was the right thing. I never wanted to be one of those pet owners who keeps pressing on at all costs because they can't let go, and I don't think I was. I'm tremendously grateful for the good days that we had to say goodbye, and I know she went knowing that she was loved.
posted by dlugoczaj at 7:56 AM on December 9, 2010 [1 favorite]
She'd been having some breathing problems and I thought she just had a respiratory infection. When I took her to the vet, she had to stay there for three days to get fluid drained out of her chest and for observation afterwards. Turned out that she'd developed lymphoma. The vet said well, we can help her go right now or we can give her a steroid and see how well things turn out--there's about a 50-50 chance it'll keep her comfortable for a few more weeks. Since she was obviously better after the fluid drain, I went with the steroid option and brought her home. My metrics for doing so were: if she a) doesn't want to eat, b) doesn't want to be petted and cuddled anymore, and/or c) is struggling noticeably for breath, I was going to take her back and ask for euthanasia.
Those were very concrete measures and they worked very well in helping me decide. (My husband also helped me, as this was far more my cat than his and he could be more objective about it.) We had a few good days at home; she asked to be held and cuddled a lot and I did as much as she wanted. She ate enthusiastically and I gave her special food. Five days later she wanted to be held for a short time in the evening, then climbed on the back of the couch and looked me right in the eyes. I honestly believe that she was saying goodbye then. In the morning, she didn't want to eat anymore and hid herself away rather than staying out with the family, and by evening she was having trouble breathing. I called the vet the next morning and went in with her for the procedure.
It was difficult and I'm still struggling but I honestly do believe it was the right thing. I never wanted to be one of those pet owners who keeps pressing on at all costs because they can't let go, and I don't think I was. I'm tremendously grateful for the good days that we had to say goodbye, and I know she went knowing that she was loved.
posted by dlugoczaj at 7:56 AM on December 9, 2010 [1 favorite]
We had to take our 19-year-old cat to the vet for the last time in October. It was a tough call. For the most part, other some elder kidney issues, Maddie was mostly healthy—no disease other than being deaf and old and some parts not quite as spry as before—but overall a good happy cat with quality of life.
In the summer, Maddie had suffered from a bout of ataxia which presented as a stroke or some other debilitating mobility loss. At first, we assumed that she was likely nearing the end, and even as we went to the vet, began emotionally preparing to make The Call.
Fortunately, a reprieve—the ataxia was merely a symptom, caused by referred pain from a kidney infection. Medicine cleared the kidney infection and she began moving normally again. We had our sweet old kitty back.
So when she stopped eating and drinking in October and started isolating herself from us, we thought to July. "Look! A trip to the vet made it all better! Everything will be fine this time too." Only, after multiple stressful tests, the vet found no cause for these symptoms. He gave us two days of steroids to try and jump-start Maddie's appetite.
They didn't work, and plus pilling her was making her terribly upset. We tried hand-feeding, and giving her favorite treats, and she would take nothing. She was going on day seven of no food, and just drops of water, and getting weaker and weaker. Organ failure was a very real risk. The vet offered a stronger steroid if we felt that would work. It was tempting to take the prescription, but we knew what we had to do.
There were two things that consoled us, through this process.
One, our family believes that by taking in pets, us humans are signing a contract with the animal. Our side of the contract says that we will be the alpha of your "pack," and we will love you, and be kind to you, and feed and water you, and shelter you and keep you healthy, and make you a beloved member of our home.
It also says that we will accept responsibility to make the hard decisions around quality of life. We believe that the contract acknowledges that our pets will give us unconditional love—which can sometimes take the shape of hiding their pain and their discomfort because they know that it upsets the alpha, the humans.
Keeping up our end of the contract means we will agree not to hang on and insist on heroic measures for "one more day" or "one more week" or "one more month"—prolonging the life of a pet who can't move, or eat, or use the bathroom, or clean itself, or have any kind of happiness and contentment... because one more day will give us humans more comfort. Giving our pets a peaceful ending, one that is not wracked with pain and fear and misery, is part of the contract, even when it's devastatingly painful.
We knew that Maddie needed us to honor our part of the contract now, for she had fulfilled her side.
The other thing that was of great, great comfort: our vet pointed out that cats and dogs live in the present. They have very little concept of tomorrow. They don't feel the same sadness that humans do around death—for the simple fact that their brains don't have the capacity to forecast, "Here's what you will be missing tomorrow, and next month, and next year." So when our pet is nearing the end of its life, it doesn't feel regret, sorrow and sadness. We do, of course, but our beloved pup or kitty doesn't. It just wants to have a good life, and be loved by its humans.
And many many vets and animal people believe (as do I) that animals instinctively know when it is time. So we believe that our Maddie knew that she'd had a great, full life for many years, of loving her humans and being a brave hunter in the tall backyard grass, and napping in the sun, and that she was loved, and that it was time. We felt that to honor that was to respect her animalness, her natural instinct.
red_lotus, I'm so sorry that you lost your friend. You did not fail him; you honored him.
posted by pineapple at 10:56 AM on December 9, 2010 [9 favorites]
In the summer, Maddie had suffered from a bout of ataxia which presented as a stroke or some other debilitating mobility loss. At first, we assumed that she was likely nearing the end, and even as we went to the vet, began emotionally preparing to make The Call.
Fortunately, a reprieve—the ataxia was merely a symptom, caused by referred pain from a kidney infection. Medicine cleared the kidney infection and she began moving normally again. We had our sweet old kitty back.
So when she stopped eating and drinking in October and started isolating herself from us, we thought to July. "Look! A trip to the vet made it all better! Everything will be fine this time too." Only, after multiple stressful tests, the vet found no cause for these symptoms. He gave us two days of steroids to try and jump-start Maddie's appetite.
They didn't work, and plus pilling her was making her terribly upset. We tried hand-feeding, and giving her favorite treats, and she would take nothing. She was going on day seven of no food, and just drops of water, and getting weaker and weaker. Organ failure was a very real risk. The vet offered a stronger steroid if we felt that would work. It was tempting to take the prescription, but we knew what we had to do.
There were two things that consoled us, through this process.
One, our family believes that by taking in pets, us humans are signing a contract with the animal. Our side of the contract says that we will be the alpha of your "pack," and we will love you, and be kind to you, and feed and water you, and shelter you and keep you healthy, and make you a beloved member of our home.
It also says that we will accept responsibility to make the hard decisions around quality of life. We believe that the contract acknowledges that our pets will give us unconditional love—which can sometimes take the shape of hiding their pain and their discomfort because they know that it upsets the alpha, the humans.
Keeping up our end of the contract means we will agree not to hang on and insist on heroic measures for "one more day" or "one more week" or "one more month"—prolonging the life of a pet who can't move, or eat, or use the bathroom, or clean itself, or have any kind of happiness and contentment... because one more day will give us humans more comfort. Giving our pets a peaceful ending, one that is not wracked with pain and fear and misery, is part of the contract, even when it's devastatingly painful.
We knew that Maddie needed us to honor our part of the contract now, for she had fulfilled her side.
The other thing that was of great, great comfort: our vet pointed out that cats and dogs live in the present. They have very little concept of tomorrow. They don't feel the same sadness that humans do around death—for the simple fact that their brains don't have the capacity to forecast, "Here's what you will be missing tomorrow, and next month, and next year." So when our pet is nearing the end of its life, it doesn't feel regret, sorrow and sadness. We do, of course, but our beloved pup or kitty doesn't. It just wants to have a good life, and be loved by its humans.
And many many vets and animal people believe (as do I) that animals instinctively know when it is time. So we believe that our Maddie knew that she'd had a great, full life for many years, of loving her humans and being a brave hunter in the tall backyard grass, and napping in the sun, and that she was loved, and that it was time. We felt that to honor that was to respect her animalness, her natural instinct.
red_lotus, I'm so sorry that you lost your friend. You did not fail him; you honored him.
posted by pineapple at 10:56 AM on December 9, 2010 [9 favorites]
Coming back to this after having now gone through the experience myself, I just wanted to say, even though you weren't asking whether whether or not you made the right call --- I think it is very clear that you made the right call. And I hope you're doing well.
posted by Ashley801 at 1:36 PM on April 20, 2011
posted by Ashley801 at 1:36 PM on April 20, 2011
This thread is closed to new comments.
posted by TheBones at 5:13 PM on December 8, 2010