You did. You tried to help him, and you knew when it was time to say goodbye.
I think one of the hardest responsibilities we as pet-owners have is know when it’s time to let our buddy run across Rainbow Bridge. He had a good long fight, you gave him a loving home, and in the end, you had his back.
Ember and Duke are probably sniffing over him right now, while Troubles looks at all the young’uns acting all foolish and such.
My husband and I agreed a long time ago that we’d take care of our critters to the best of our ability, including regular vet visits, but we would not take extraordinary measures. I was glad of that when our last cat was discovered with her back end paralyzed. The vet was very kind and very forthright - he said we could try going to a specialist, but he said it likely wouldn’t have a good outcome. So while it was hard to make the decision, I was ready to do it, and we had our beautiful Abyssinian put down.
On the upside, because we didn’t spend a fortune on the specialist, we were able to adopt another cat within a few weeks thru a rescue group. Cold as it may sound, I felt better knowing our limited dollars were able to do certain good rather than pursuing a very slim chance of recovery of the older cat.
Both of our dogs are elderly, and I’m ready to make the call, should they not make a graceful exit in their sleep. Honestly, having already made the decision is a relief. Our critters have all been spoiled rotten, and when their time comes, we hope they’ll go peacefully and painlessly, and we’ll do what we can to ensure they do.
In another of these sad threads, someone who’d seen a lot of pet euthanasia commented that she had never seen a case in which the decision was made too soon.
Arthur is free now, and he spent his last moments being petted by someone who loves him. Shouldn’t we all get to go that way?
Good night, Arthur. Sweet dreams. You were a good dog and well loved.
Scarlett
who had to make this tough decision not so long ago
Decisions aren’t made with hindsight. When you decided on the surgery, it must have seemed like the best thing, although it turned out badly for your poor dog. But you didn’t know that when you made the decision, so don’t feel guilty. You did your best for him, both when you decided on the surgery, and when you said goodbye to him.
My heart goes out to you.
RIP Arthur.
“Happiness is a warm puppy.”
-Charles Schultz (who also knew the heartbreak of losing man’s best friend)
I’ve had to make the decision a lot, and in hindsight the only one I regret was the one we didn’t make. We kept one cat alive much longer than we should have, and I’m ashamed of it.
you gave him the best chances you could and you stayed with him when he passed.
you loved him and you were loved by him. that is everything.
I’m so sorry for what you’re going through right now. A few years ago I had to put down my sweet kitty of 15 years and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I would have paid anything to prolong her life, but all of the options would only prolong her life in pain. That’s no way for someone you love to live.
Please feel free to email or PM me if you need to vent.
I just went through this, with two dogs in the space of a week. It was horrible.
But it was also necessary. I had to love them as much that day as I had loved them their whole lives. I too did the “sit on the floor, pet and talk to them as they fall asleep” duty. It was the toughest thing I have ever done, and I have walked through some pretty shit in my life.
I am a grown up for sure now, and so are you. You did the right thing, which is seldom easy. I understand.
I just spent some time playing with our two dogs after reading this thread. A little bit of attention means so much to them.
I’m sorry you are without your Arthur. I’m glad you were there at the end, though. That’s the best way.
You will always have his love. May you find new love when you are ready.
I’ve had to make the same decision myself, when our cat, San Francisco, was in severe distress. He had had a heart attack and we madly rushed through the night to the emergency vet. After x-rays and drugs and oxygen and everything else veterinary science could try, it was plain that San Francisco would not improve, and was suffering besides. So my wife and I made the same decision that you did. It sounds like Arthur’s last moments were like Frisco’s: spent in a pair of loving arms.
I think you made the right decision. Please do give some thought to what was mentioned upthread: you now have room in your life, should you choose, for a friend from the shelter, who might never meet such a pet owner as you. We did this after Frisco’s passing, and we found Fiona, who has provided us with much love and amusement over the years. We will never forget San Francisco and have many happy memories of him, but we found we had love enough for another unwanted cat too. Perhaps you have the same for an unwanted dog.
At any rate, rest assured that you did the right thing.
Same here. I knew for a couple of weeks that he was going, and the last three days were pure hell for him. But he was my bud, and I was afraid to let him go. I’m ashamed of that, because I didn’t do the right thing at the right time.
Two years, five months; and his picture is still on my desktop.
Excuse me while I cry.
My parents have had three Beagles. The first, who died when I was six, belong to my mom. The third, who’s 10 now, belongs to my sister. The middle one belonged to me. I was six when we got her and she was mine and I was hers. When I was 19, she got cancer. My parents could not bring themselves to put her down. It was summer, and I was home from college. She used to sleep in a bed at the foot of the stairs.
I came downstairs for a snack one night and she was breathing hard. She looked so miserable. And I thought, dogs are pack animals. Don’t they want their pack with them when they’re sick? I would. So I laid down on the kitchen floor and tucked my arm under her head. I listened to her breathing get steadier and her body relax, and then i tiptoed to bed. I started doing this every night.
I had a friend staying with me overnight, so I stayed upstairs on night. I remember getting a drink of water in the middle of the night, standing at the top of the stairs listening to Freckles’s labored breathing and thinking I should just go down, just for 5 minutes. Instead I went back to bed.
She died that night. Ten years later and I still think about her down there in the kitchen all by herself. Still kick myself for not going downstairs one last time.
Couple years back, I had to put my cat down, also because of cancer. I sat there and petted him while he fell asleep and felt thankful, at least, that he wasn’t alone and suffering. He was warm and safe when he closed his eyes for the last time. Arthur was, too.
I’m sorry you had to make that decision because it’s the hardest thing you ever have to do for your furry friends. There is consolation in the fact that you did your best for him, gave him every possible chance, and at the point where you knew there was nothing else to do, you saved him from further suffering. And most importantly, you were there at the end to remind him how much he meant to you and your family. Sometimes that’s the best gift we can give our critters.
This was me at this very time last year.
I had put my beloved cat, Lady, to sleep after 21 years of wonderful companionship. My heart was sore - and I had openly told my husband that perhaps someday we’d have another indoor kitty, but for now - no. My heart needed to mend. That was in October of last year.
Fast forward a month, and who should show up in our middle-of-the-country house but a poor, sickly, scraggly little kitten. I’m not a kitten person for starters - I much prefer cats (and dogs over puppies). But this kitten needed us. He would run away from us if we moved too fast, and he would only stick around long enough for the briefest of pettings. He spent most of his time huddled up with our dog - the both of them sleeping on the dog’s heated pallet in the garage.
It took me a month, but I finally got to the point where the little bugger would let me pick him up. Wasn’t too long after that I had a day off and and took him to the vet where he was vaccinated, treated for earmites and giardia. This meant, of course, bringing him in the house so that we could properly take care of him.
His name is Tiburon and he is my boy. I know that someday my heart will be broken all over again, but I don’t think about that. All I can think about is how much Tibs and I get along, and how thankful I am that he’s in our lives.
There are days where I suddenly think of Lady and I tear up. I miss her, but I know she had a wonderful life - and she brought joy to mine. Just as Tiburon does now.
You’re both in my thoughts. I know that the decision you made was extremely hard, but I think you did what was best for Arthur.
I am so sorry. It is the absolute worst thing about owning a pet. They give so much love and happiness throughout their lives.
I wish there were words that could comfort, but having been thru it many times in the past, I know it’s best not to try. Give yourselves time to grieve and remember. (((hugs))) to you and yours.
Me too.
I lost Little Guy, my pride and joy, in June 2006 at age 20.
In October, I got a kitten. He was one of the first victims of the poison cat food deal, dying without warning in early December, before anyone knew what the hell was going on. Broke my heart. I came home, he was dead.
My Bertie (age 16), Little Guy’s mate, became ill, and I took to hand-nursing her to try to rescue her. She secumbed in late February, 2007. At that point, I had lost three cats in eight months and was heart broken. With all the other crap going on in my life, I was seriously despondent and not a little suicidal. I decided that I wasn’t going to get another pet until I could rescue myself first.
Ten days later, a young cat wandered into my parent’s garage 15 miles away. My mother asked if I could care for it until they found the owner, because she is seriously allergic to cats. I went down and picked it up, finding a six to nine month old long haired female (I’ve never had a long-hair and did not want one). The next day was a huge snowstorm, with another one two days after that. My mother searched the neighborhood for ‘missing cat’ signs, checked with the neighbors, checked the local papers. Nothing.
Ten days later, I told her that since no one had been looking for it during a period of snowstorms, there was no way in hell I was giving her back to them if they came forward now.
Thus, when I wanted a pet the least, but probably needed it the most, Raido came into my life.
Oh damn.
Sorry to hear what you went through. Having to put a pet down is always extremely hard.
I’m often surprised at how pet lovers differ with respect to end-of-life vet care. We put Daisy down last Feb, and got Clover the following month. Picking up another pup this weekend. But I don’t think I would pay $3K for any procedure on a 10 year old dog. Just different approaches.
Don’t know if I am the poster Scarlett is thinking about, but I know I have said and posted the same thing about never having heard of a too-early euthanization. Unles you are 80 years old when you get a dog, you HOPE you will see it die. Always kind of surprises me when folks seem to forget this when the time comes. And IMO a lot of “heroic” efforts are very little removed from torture.
You might want to talk with your wife about what you went through before getting another pup.
Funny how things like this happen, no?