Eight years ago I adopted a middle-aged English setter from the local pound. They found him covered in ticks and nearly starved to death, still with his hunter’s orange collar on. They figured he probably wasn’t working as a hunting dog, so he was left in the field. I adopted him and when he came home, he didn’t know what stairs were and probably had never been in a house. It didn’t take long to figure out the house had the good food and the cushy beds.
When the other dogs would sometimes get loose and run in the woods across the road, Pat would never go far. He’d run with them until it got hard to see the house through the trees and turn around and come home. He never wanted the house out of his sight.
He’s had spondylosis, spinal arthritis, for a few years, and the last few months I’ve I’ve had to help him up sometimes. And he’s had a sort of progressive dementia, which makes him walk into corners and tight spots and not be able to get out. He was still eating well, still exploring the yard, but getting weaker. Last night I got home from work and found him collapsed on the floor in a pile of his own waste, and no longer able to stand once I helped him up. It’s time, but oh, how I wish it wasn’t.
I’m so sorry. Thanks for sharing his story, these kinds of threads may be depressing but there’s always some joy in hearing about good pets who were well loved.
How very not sad for Pat. He got a wonderful second chance, with everything a dog needs to be happy: the good food, the cushy beds, an owner who loves him. And he’s going to go before he really suffers, which is the best we can all hope for. So good for Pat, and my deepest condolences to you.
Thanks for the condolences. It’s just hard to be so deliberate about it. Calling the vet and making the appointment while he still looks at me with love in his eyes.
He obviously had a tough time in his youth, but you took him in, fixed him up, and treated him so well he never wanted to be out of sight of where he knew you were. You gave him good years and made him happy. What more can anyone, man or dog, ask for? Remember that.
I’m so sorry you’ve come to this – the time we all dread who have animals. But this:
says you’re doing it at the right time – physically it’s no longer an option to delay; mentally, there’s still enough of him there, not so lost in the mists of his deterioration, that what remains of life is joyless for him.
I could have stretched things out a little while longer, I suppose; for my benefit, not his; but then he might have gone past pride into dull-eyed suffering misery and faced the inevitable as a mere shell of himself, instead of with his dignity intact.
You know your boy would never choose to lie helpless again in his own waste; to delay would be to deny him the love and respect he has shared with you for so long.
You took a dog from death’s door, from miserable conditions, and gave it all of the best that you could possibly give. A house full of love, warmth, safety and good food. At the end of all things, you helped him through his final indignity with compassion and love.
This is what it means to be Human, and what it means to be a good person.
I recall reading a few Dopers who have stories of waiting too long to give their beloved pet their last gift, and they are universally deeply regretful that they waited too long. It seems like there are two options here - bad and worse. “Bad” is putting your dog down when he still looks at you with love in his eyes; “worse” is waiting too long.
My condolences to you on this terrible decision. Good-bye, Pat. You do sound like a good dog.
It’s done. It was soft and peaceful and it’s still hurts.
You go into every animal adoption deliberately blinding yourself to the fact that there is always heartbreak at the end of the relationship. If you did that with humans you’d be called self-destructive.
You did right by him tho. Pat had a good life with you.