Plan B Forum

Please excuse me, but I have to write something. I just made one of the most difficult calls ever, setting up to have my dog euthanized at the vets on Saturday. We've had her for nearly 15 years, and except for the last few months when her illness progressed, she was the kindest, most energetic, spirited, most loving dog you could ever imagine--the kind of dog that made even people who don't like dogs love her (she got my wife's undying affection (and she "didn't want any dog") and two of my friends who said they never wanted a pet got dogs after knowing her). She was perceptive, and would always be there to comfort you when you were sick or just feeling down, and asked for little except maybe to sit with you or at your feet. She loved walks and hiking, but especially loved when crowds of people came (and we had al lot of big parties) where she could mingle and work her magic.

My girls were young when we got her, and she was a great playmate to them; if she didn't like dressing up in doll clothes or dancing you could tell by the way she interacted with them and their friends, just wanting to be one of the gang. And she was usually a welcome member.

Long after my girls ceased to make a fuss when I came home she would make a bee-line when I returned from work each day, barking and announcing to the household that I was home, sometimes leaping up into my arms (and she was a very little dog, around 10 pounds). She would usually like to get up to say goodbye to me every morning when I left as well.

And she could do great tricks, climbing ladders, jumping through hoops, even falling backwards and playing dead when we pretended to shoot her; I often thought that, in another life, she could have been a circus dog.

indeed, she liked just about everything except when we left her to go on vacation and, she especially hated going to the vet (but even there, the people loved her; one of the things she loved doing was curling up in my arm on her back, like a cat, and, watching me carry her that way, they used to affectionately call her the "football dog").

Sadly, about 18 months ago she was diagnosed with mitrial valve problems (something common to small dogs) and around this February she started to experience significant heart failure, yet she persevered. She still wanted to be with the family, but she often retreated upstairs when company came. Around May, she started eating less and lost some weight (eventually around 25% of her body weight), but was still drinking water, interacting with us, and going outside to relieve herself. Earlier this week she slowed down a bit more we started to notice some bruising on her side and a yellow cast on her abdomen; the blood tests confirmed she was in complete liver failure and bleeding internally (although not to a high degree). We discussed it last night and agreed that we who took care of her during her entire life, had to take care of her now by ending the suffering before it got much worse. It's the right thing to do, but that doesn't make it easier. and of the many things I had to do both personally and professionally, making that call to set up the appointment was one of the toughest.

We have her with us until Saturday, and we'll try to spoil her as best we can, giving her whatever she wants to eat (like bacon) and just being with her. The end will be hard, but then worthwhile things often are, and this hard thing is the last thing we will do for her.

In sum, all I can say is she is/was the best dog in the world; and wherever she ends up afterwards, she'll be the best dog there too.

Again, no responses are necessary, but I just had to write something to get it out of my system.

You did the thing you had to do as her Dad. It’s never easy, even if you know it’s right and responsible. I’m so glad you had each other and so sorry your time together is ending.

I lost my beautiful sweet kitty girl of 13 years this spring, shortly after I got back from France. She had mouth cancer, which is brutal, fast spreading, and without cure. I had to make that same call. We spent our last several days together just hanging out and she had whatever she wanted. I hired a vet that came to my house, who made that whole experience as loving and painless as possible for both of us.

Hugs to you both. And Mai-Mai says she’ll have the welcoming crew all lined up for her on Saturday.

I'm sorry for your family's loss. That it is the right thing to say good bye now does not make it any easier. Best wishes.

I’m so sorry for your loss, BigRR.

Here are some sentiments to salve your grief.

Robinson Jeffers: The House-Dog's Grave

I've changed my ways a little; I cannot now
Run with you in the evenings along the shore,
Except in a kind of dream; and you,
If you dream a moment,
You see me there.

So leave awhile the paw-marks on the front door
Where I used to scratch to go out or in,
And you'd soon open; leave on the kitchen floor
The marks of my drinking-pan.

I cannot lie by your fire as I used to do
On the warm stone,
Nor at the foot of your bed; no,
All the nights through I lie alone.

But your kind thought has laid me less than six feet
Outside your window where firelight so often plays,
And where you sit to read‚
And I fear often grieving for me‚
Every night your lamplight lies on my place.

You, man and woman, live so long, it is hard
To think of you ever dying.
A little dog would get tired, living so long.
I hope that when you are lying
Under the ground like me your lives will appear
As good and joyful as mine.

No, dears, that's too much hope:
You are not so well cared for as I have been.
And never have known the passionate undivided
Fidelities that I knew.
Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided...
But to me you were true.

You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend.
I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end. If this is my end,
I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.

My deepest sympathies, BigRR. May her memory be a blessing.

I'm very sorry to hear that, BigRR. It sounds like she really is the best dog ever. I'm sure she believes you're the best friend ever and wouldn't want you to feel sad. Good dogs are like that. Take care.

Sad news old son, it's never easy to make that decision, but you know it's the right time for her.

Beautiful tribute Big RR...

My strongest condolences for your loss.

hang in there chief....

Thanks to all who responded; your sentiments and kind words are appreciated.

As an aside, just writing this helped me to put a lot in perspective; when I consider what used to be among her greatest joys in life, and when I see how she is not, not in pain, but debilitated and weak, I know I am making the right decision for her. And while that doesn't make it easy, but it does make it easier.

Big RR, my daughter went through this sad process a few years back. Her dog, Nikki, was a cherished friend in her life. Rather than going through the agony of loading up the dog into the car and taking her to the vet for the last time, the vet had a van that came to her home.

My daughter, and a few family members, were encouraged to enter the van for Nikki's final farewell. This had a nice calming effect on her cherished friend and, within minutes came the inevitable finale. After a few farewell thoughts and wishes the family exited knowing their dear pet has completed the trek to "Rainbow Bridge."

A few days later my daughter picked up Nikki's "cremains" and they were quietly scattered in a nearby park where the dog always enjoyed playing.

My daughter still talks about all the fun times she shared with Nikki.

Peace.

Ray--my condolences to your daughter; our vet doesn't do this sort of house call, but I can see how it could be a lot less stressful, especially for a bigger dog.

I’m so grateful that my vet in shitty cowboy town Montana was willing to come to my house on a Sunday afternoon and euthanize my Jenny on her bed, in her own kitchen. My first dog Gus had to go to the vet office and despite a happy car ride and ice cream w/milkbone treat from the ice cream stand on the way, his last moments waiting our turn at the Vet’s were the usual vet office anxiety tremors. Jenny had begun to be a real vet office trembler in her old age, so it was a huge relief that she didn’t need to experience that in her final moments.

If I was a veterinarian, I would happily provide the service of in home euthanasia. Since euthanasia of animals is legal, I wonder why vets can’t provide a cocktail like what is provided to humans in places where assisted suicide is legal? Mix a big dose of barbituates into Fido’s final filet mignon dinner . . . although in my Jenny’s case, those last two days she’d gone off her food which in addition to total hind end paralysis was the sign it was time to say goodbye.

that would be the problem with my dog as well--as enticing as it is, she would likely not eat it all (and maybe only a very little), which could lead to problems. Also, from movies of barbiturate suicides, vomiting after taking the medication is also a problem.

As for my vet, from what I understand, they do not have you wait in the waiting room, but usually stay outside in the car and enter through a back door when everything is ready. They don't want the animal nervous, but being at home would be better.

My vet had a client who is a vet for Laps of Love, an in-home let euthanasia service. I knew I was not putting my girl in a crate and a car and driving her to the vet’s office. He offered to come out and handle it, but he recommended Dr. Sally. I am so glad I called her. She was so kind and respectful. And she took the remains and I have a lovely little urn that sits in Mai-Mai’s favorite window.

They have mobile vets all across the country, so it’s definitely a service more and more clients want and veterinarians are offering.

Sorry that you are going through it, my thoughts are with you and your family.

Good dogs teach us how to be good humans. POTUS never had a dog, or any other pet. {does everything have to be about Trump? Sadly, yes.]

snailgate

My condolences for your and your faithful little companion's ordeal and your loss of each other. Never having had a dog, only cats, I can't pretend to really know what you're going through; even the lesser emotional attachment of cats is difficult to say goodbye to, and dogs are so much more part of a family.

(We lost our last cat, Blue Eyes, last November, after several weeks of knowing the end would be soon. He came into our bedroom one morning to announce it was time, and then lay down on the cool tile of the bathroom floor to wait for us to get ready; my wife (his primary caregiver) bundled him in an old blanket and held him in her arms for the drive to the vet. He died as she carried him from the car into the vet's office for his appointment with euthanasia. When we got out of the car he was still purring, and by the time we had set him down and unwrapped him he was gone. That's about as quick and peaceful an end as could be hoped for...)

I hope your dog's departure from this world is comfortable and peaceful, Big RR, and I hope you can find peace quickly as well.