Pets

When we take a companion animal into our lives, we take on a host of responsibilities. Making end-of-life decisions is perhaps the most difficult, but we owe it to them to do our best to ensure a peaceful end; to spare them the pain, fear, or confusion they may otherwise experience if we "let nature take its course."

Response to everyday pleasures, degree of mobility, degree of pain, effectiveness of pain management, degree of confusion are all factors, as is the question of whether there is a meaningful chance of improvement or recovery. For myself, when the condition is terminal, I tend to end things sooner than I might if there had been a meaningful chance of improvement or recovery.

Ultimately, you know your pup best. Make an assessment of his quality of life. If the condition is terminal, you need to consider whether you’re putting off your goodbyes for his sake, or for your sake. I think we know our babies well enough to know if they are telling us they are done. And if it is unclear, one thing I take as a strong indicator that "I'm done" is if the dog won't eat on their own. Sometimes they are determined to stay with us because they see how much we want them to stay. Sometimes the “right” decision just isn’t clear. All we can do is do our best.

I don't know if it will help, but I describe a few end-of-life situations I've been through. There's more detail below, in case specifics help, but the short story is that in one case limited mobility and lethargy together weren't "enough." It was not until she stopped eating that we decided it was time. In another, mobility and appetite were still good, but the condition was terminal and causing cognitive problems. She was no longer herself. For me, that, coupled with zero chance of recovery meant it was time to give her a peaceful end. In a third case, chances of recovery were unclear, so we took it day-to-day until the decision was taken out of our hands.

---------------------------
Our dog K.D. (Kangaroo Dog) was diagnosed with a tumor in her spleen. We opted to have the spleen removed because there was no indication in imaging that the cancer had spread beyond the spleen. If it had not spread, there was every chance of a full recovery. During the surgery they discovered it had spread to her liver. I never regretted putting our baby through the surgery though. It could have gone the other way. They are so stoic it is hard to know if they are in pain, but our vet was pretty confident that the cancer in the liver was not at a stage that would be painful. K.D. would simply get progressively weaker. She recovered from the surgery well, but as predicted, a month later she became progressively more lethargic and weak. She could get up and get around on her own, but did better with the help of a "sling." She was very responsive to us and enjoyed cuddles and pets. Then her interest in food diminished. We shifted to things she really loved. When she lost interest in eating the green tripe that she had previously found irresistible, we decided it was time. She still clearly loved being near us, and still had limited mobility, but we decided that in her refusal to eat on her own she was telling us she was done. We all snuggled together that night and cried. She was comfortable, but so, so weak. We said goodbye the following day.

After my husband died, our other dog, d.d. (dinky dog) started having seizures. At her age, the likely cause was a meningioma. Anti-seizure medication helped control the seizures. She was in good shape for almost a year. Then one night I woke up and she wasn't in bed. Instead, she was up circling. She was so confused and wobbly. I thought it was time, but the vet said we should try prednisone. If it was a meningioma, prednisone can work wonders. And it did. She was good for many months. When she started showing the same cognitive signs, there was no more to be done. She was still mobile, and still eating, but so confused. I decided it was time.

And then there was Mitzi. An elderly dog we "inherited" when my husband's grandmother died. She did pretty well until she was stricken with pancreatitis and hospitalized. The first day we visited she seemed to be improving. The next, not so much. The third day, she seemed worse, but was still clearly happy to see us and get cuddles. We left with a bit of hope for a recovery. The fourth day, she was even worse. She barely reacted to us. That night we talked and cried. We thought she was telling us she had had enough but we decided we wouldn't make a final decision until we saw how she was the next day. In the middle of the night we got a call from the vet. She had died and spared us having to make the decision for her. Perhaps we could have/should have spared her that final day, but we just weren’t sure. We did our best and needed to be OK with that.