Tag Archives: euthanasia

Picture of a dog on the beach to illustrate goodbye to her dog

Saying goodbye to her dog

This week a social media friend of ours said goodbye to her dog. It was a long, joyous farewell. The dog was diagnosed with kidney failure a couple years ago. Our friend did everything she could to keep her dog comfortable and happy, but he recently let her know it was time.

She did something we’re not sure we could. She made their appointment with the vet for a week later, took vacation time, rented a cabin by a lake, and spent the days giving her dog the best few days ever. 

And then she said goodbye. 

It’s so personal

She chronicled her dog’s last few days with happy pictures of swimming, and barbecues, little walks he could manage. There was even a squirrel he chased. She made sure her dog’s send-off was filled with joy. 

Picture of a dog on the beach to illustrate goodbye to her dog

She’ll have those memories forever and shared them with her friends on social media. And, as always seems to happen these days, another “friend” commented on one of her posts “Don’t kill your dog! He has lots of life left in him.” 

We’re sure the comment hurt our friend deeply. She did block the person, but the damage was done. Whenever there are tough decisions, we always second-guess ourselves, and think most everyone does the same thing.

She promised him

When her dog got the fatal diagnosis, she promised him he’d never suffer. She believes that it’s better to let them go a day too soon than a moment too late. It’s a tough call when that day might be. Every dog owner dreads it.

But we’ve pretty much come to agree with our friend. We’ve lost dogs in sudden crises, and said long, slow goodbyes, too. Given the opportunity, we’d have spared our dogs the pain and panic those crises brought. But we had no way of knowing they were imminent.

The best we can do

Our friend’s story hit close to home. Three of our dogs are seniors – 15, 11, and 9. We don’t obsess about life’s fragility, but we worry. When Tango (Brussels Griffon) gets lost in the backyard, or Booker doesn’t want to jump up, or Torque’s back leg slips out, we worry. 

We’re not sure we’d have the fortitude to create a week of memories knowing what’s on the calendar. We’re more likely to stick to familiar routines they love. We let our dogs know, as part of our everyday lives, they matter. Because they do.


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2018 ends in pain

2018 wasn’t the best year on record – better than some. Worse than others. Until this week.

Anyone who uses Facebook has seen friends “sharing” their Facebook-generated “Your 2018” videos. Our “feeds” are full of them. We were kind of looking forward to our own popping up, until this week. This week 2018 went from a bit challenging to agonizing.

Teddy is gone

Hope’s 8-year-old French Bulldog, Teddy, died on Sunday. We were relaxing and watching television that evening. Teddy, as usual, was cuddled up next to Hope. He woke from his nap, panting and in distress. She ran with him to the emergency vet and learned that an unknown abdominal mass had ruptured and he was gravely ill. We couldn’t let him suffer and chose euthanasia.

A friend of ours told us: “Euthanasia is the last, best gift we give our pets. We take their pain and make it our own.” Teddy is free of pain. Ours is a throbbing behemoth.

Nothing stays the same

As everyone who’s lost a beloved pet knows – everything changes. Even with other animals in the house, everything’s different. And when you have multiple dogs, the dynamics of the family change.

As I (Hope) write this, we’re less than 48 hours without Teddy. Tango is sleeping more. Booker isn’t sure what to do with himself. Torque is unwilling to play. They’re not actively looking, but they know Teddy is missing.

Simon is barely four months old – a happy, clueless puppy. Thank goodness he’s here – we need to smile.

Feeling cheated

Beyond sad and unsettled, we also feel cheated, in an odd way. We’ve mentioned before that Teddy was diagnosed with Degenerative Myelopathy (DM) early in the summer. It’s a fatal disease the takes away a dog’s ability to move, progressing from back to front. It’s caused by the same gene mutation responsible for Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (Lou Gehrig’s disease).

Battle plan

Hope had a plan in place to battle back against DM:

Rear lift assist harness
  • Special diet
  • Supplements
  • Physical therapy exercises to replace nerve loss with muscle memory
  • Massage
  • Cold laser
  • Training games to keep him engaged, thinking, and happy
  • Rear lift harness (pictured) purchased & ready when needed
  • Pet stroller so Teddy would never be left behind

The best-laid plans

Now all of it’s useless. Teddy saw his vets last Friday for routine stuff, including a check-in to evaluate the progression of his disease. They were thrilled with how he was doing – still walking. Still happy. They even got Teddy kisses. Six months after DM diagnosis, most dogs are “down” in the back. Teddy was still mobile. They tell us they fully expected him to have at least a year, very possibly more, before the DM took over.

So we were winning the daily battle against DM. And now?

No enemy to fight

This will sound like a non-sequitur, but stay with us for a minute: Is anybody out there a fan of the Monkees? Or even remember them? We were huge fans when we were kids.

Remember the song “Zor and Zam?”

The last line keeps playing in my mind: “They gave a war, and nobody came. And nobody came.”