Sunday, May 4, 2014

Humane Euthanasia of an Aged or Sick Pet

The decision to euthanize a pet is extremely personal and difficult.
When contemplating euthanasia of a beloved pet, you may feel the urge to discuss it with a few trusted individuals. Discuss if you wish but do so with caution.
When my dog of 9 years recently fell very ill I discussed my pet's condition and possible euthanasia with a few individuals, one, a veterinarian friend.
One person actually questioned my decision to euthanize (once I had decided to take my pet, Thalia, to be put to sleep that following day). He immediately caught himself saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to question your judgement on this."
But that brief lapse of judgement on this person's part made this terribly challenging situation and day even more challenging and painful for me, even if it was just for a minute. I immediately felt compelled to justify why I was electing to have my pet put to sleep... mentioning the fact that she had stopped eating, was off balance, was having trouble breathing, could barely walk, had begun having accidents in the home. This was expending unnecessary energy on my part and energy was something I had very little of, the process of losing a pet is exhausting, among other things.
Electing humane euthanasia for a pet is so personal that you need tell no one. It's ultimately between you and your pet and your choice to keep it that way.
Another challenge I faced regarding pet euthanasia was: denial.
My girl, Thalia, had been on prednisone, an excellent drug for inflammation, (she had a large mass on her throat) for a month and a half. At first the drug worked wonders for her.
Upon taking the first dosage the difference was like night and day; she went from barely being able to breathe and refusing to eat anything to breathing comfortably and having her old appetite back! I deemed it a miracle drug and felt relief and gratitude.
After a few weeks she began labored breathing once again and she was becoming more of a finicky eater. It was a downward spiral from there.
The day prior to having my pet put to sleep I texted my vet friend saying, "I'm not so sure about keeping Thalia on prednisone. Don't you think being on a steroid long-term could be having a negative effect? She's off balance, isn't breathing well and doesn't want to eat again."
He replied saying this, "Steroids at low doses are pretty benign and dogs usually tolerate them well. I would suspect that whatever disease your dog has is getting worse and the problem is not the pred."
We texted back and forth a bit more but, for me, that was pretty much all it took to realize I had been in complete denial for those past couple of days. Here I was trying to blame Thalia's deterioration on the drug rather than the disease.
"Sounds like you should start considering euthanasia. It doesn't sound promising," were the words that delivered the final necessary blow. Hearing that from a vet was important for me.
Anyone considering euthanasia for a pet should be so fortunate as to have a vet that they trust completely. Another positive aspect of discussing euthanasia with a veterinarian is that: they're basing their opinion on knowledge of the pet's condition and their medical expertise oppose to an emotional aspect of attachment to the animal, provided it's a trustworthy vet.
Although I suspect many vets prefer not to direct their clients on how to proceed in regards to pet euthanasia. You make their job easier if you're certain in your decision to either: keep fighting for your pet til the very end or to elect to end its life of suffering and sickness.
Some individuals even choose to perform surgery on pets that are very old and/or sick. I've known a few. That decision is between them and their pet. For the record, I've seen surgeries or treatments work wonders and give the dying pet a new lease on life and I've seen these options fail, only causing more anguish at the very end of a pet's life. It's a gamble, like anything in life; the good must be weighed against the bad.
For me I asked myself, "Jessica, how would you feel if you were struggling to breathe, couldn't bear to eat, were nearly too weak to stand, much less walk, choosing to isolate yourself from your family and stay alone because you felt so terrible? And... if you could go peacefully and painlessly without losing the very little dignity you've got left, would you want to do that?"
"Yes," was my answer and I knew Thalia's answer would be yes too.
Fortunately my girl only endured a couple of days 'at her worst.'
Was the process very painful? -Yes.
Do I feel a sense of peace knowing I did what's right for my pet? -Absolutely.
Do I miss her like crazy and feel a big, gaping hole in my heart? -Yes.
Will it heal and become bearable with time? -Yes.
Bless you should you find yourself in this situation. It's not easy.
It has helped a little to remind myself repetitively that my pet had a good life and was loved.
I've seen so many pets succumb to the animal shelter euthanasia needle over the years... when they're far too young, far too healthy, far too energetic and ready to give someone a thousand kisses, but instead they're killed because no one wants them and there's not room to keep all of them.
I've known so many delightful, young, healthy pets that have been senselessly sacrificed that it's disgusting and horrific. I will carry that with me to my own death bed.
So, this time I experienced euthanasia on a whole different level, a level of allowing my pet freedom from her earthly bondage.
This time, as heartbreaking and sorrowful as it was, euthanasia lived up to its definition: the painless killing of a patient suffering from an incurable and painful condition.



Thalia, left, with Cheech