It's Time to Let My Dog Go

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Way back in 2006, I came home to hear the barking of a puppy under my house. Not being a monster, I was prepared to crawl under the house in order to rescue the puppy, but thankfully he ran right into my arms when I called him. He was just a tiny thing, a few months old, but we weren’t set on keeping a dog. We lived out in the country, and I had assumed he might have wandered over, so I fed him a hotdog and left him outside hoping he’d go back home. Apparently he knew he was home.

For 2-3 days he’d chase my car when I left the house and he’d be there to greet me when I returned. One day I got home from work and when I didn’t immediately see him come to greet me I was a bit crestfallen, but so happy when he rounded the corner and ran straight for me. That’s when I decided he was my dog. I checked to get the okay from Mrs. Odesio, bought all the doggie supplies I needed, gave him a bath, picked a million ticks off him, and we named him Buddy.

Overall he’s been in pretty good health, and physically, even at almost 18, he’s not doing too bad. He’s got a heart murmur that’ll get him eventually, may have the beginnings of cirrhosis of the gallbladder, he went deaf at about 12-13, and he’s going blind, but physically speaking he can get around just a lot slower than he used to.

But he’s got dementia and things have gotten worse as time rolls by. He gets stuck in corners, has trouble finding his water & food, and he gets lost between the front door and the front yard. While he’s physically capable of walking in and out of the house, more often than not I carry him because he just paces back and forth on the front porch. And he has accidents in the house, so much so that I keep the carpet cleaner on standby.

A lot of that I can live with, but his personality has changed a bit. He’s not in any pain that I can tell, but he started exhibiting signs of happiness less frquently starting in 2021. When he couldn’t jump into bed anymore we bought a ramp so he could sleep with us. But he doesn’t want to sleep with us anymore, he doesn’t want to be in our lap, and he barely responds to being petted. He still has an appetite, even if he can’t always find his food, and he’s always eager for a treat, but I don’t think he’s living a good life and it’s time to say goodbye. Mrs. Odesio knows this day is coming, but I’ll have to talk to her tomorrow about setting up a date. Buddy’s just going to get worse, and we might as well let him go while he’s not suffering.

His last really good year was in 2020. We went camping and he loved everything from the tent to the trails we walked. For a fifteen year old dog, he did remarkably well, though we did have to slow down on the trails a few times. I’m happy for the time I’ve had with Buddy.

2

I am so very sorry. Buddy sounds like he was a wonderful pet and a very good dog.

This part of loving pets is always hard, you have my sincere sympathy. :people_hugging:

3

I feel ya Odesio! My boy just turned 18 & 1/2 on June 27th.

What kind of dog is Buddy?

And what a great name for a dog. I call my boy buddy all the time even though that is not his name.

Saucy

4

As near as I can tell, he’s a Schnauzer/terrier mix. I wanted to name him Agamemnon, but Mrs. Odesio vetoed that in favor of Buddy. It was probably the best choice.

5

This is always hard. It does sound like he’s on autopilot at this point. My sympathies as well. I have to remind myself our dogs eventually go where all dogs go when they’re done being our friends.

6

I’m so sorry. He sounds like a great dog.

7

Awww, Man.

I hate these threads. Very little makes me tear up like these stories – so beautiful … so poignant.

I’m so sorry. I’m also so grateful that – while we don’t handle end-of-life in humans the way I wish we would – we do collectively err to the side of mercy with our pets.

I’m glad he found you.

Rub his little ears for me, huh?

8

The discussion with Mrs. Odesio went about as well as I expected. She’s just not ready to let Buddy go yet, in part, because he still looks forward to eating breakfast with her every morning. I don’t fault her, because I do notice Buddy still gets some joy out of eating, but it might be a little while before she’s ready to let him go.

9

We had to go through this earlier this year with our good boy. It’s hard, no way around that. I certainly feel for you.

I don’t know enough specifics to tell you that it’s time or not time. But we were stuck at the game decision point 10 years ago with out good girl, and were lucky to have a wise old vet come to our home for an exam. What he said stuck with me. He said he’d never known anyone to make the call too soon, only too late. That the best we can try for is to not be late and cause unnecessary suffering. That’s guided our decision making ever since.

10

I spoke with our cat’s vet just a few days ago, she said the same thing. (We both do agree our cat isn’t ready for that yet, though)

It’s hard to let go, but needful. You’d think I’d learned that lesson overseeing hospice care for more than a decade, but when it’s personal it’s a whole 'nuther story.

11

Ah, @Odesio, I was going to exerpt from your OP, but the whole post spoke to me. We made the decision just this past May for our Max. He had nearly the same issues as your Buddy. He had dementia and sundowning, and we took him to the vet (who was also very good – non-judgmental and kind) who let use make our own decision. Max wasn’t happy, and he had really checked out. You could see it in his non-responsiveness. He wasn’t even enjoying his food anymore. We knew. We were with him at the end, and after the first sedative he was so relaxed he almost looked back to normal. But with other physical issues (Cushings Disease and anal prolapse after every poop), we knew it was only going to get worse.

I’m still sad and I still cry, but knowing you love him, helps you to know you’ve made the right decision. Your vet is absolutely right. My sister is still upset with herself that she wasn’t timely enough with a previous dog and thinks she made him suffer needlessly. If he seems checked out, he’s telling you he’s ready to go.

So hard!

12

I am so sorry. But 18 years is a good long run for a dog and he’s obviously had an excellent llfe with you.

Years ago one of my mother’s/my cats developed dementia. (He started as her cat, but moved in with me when she moved to an apartment.) The day that I found him in the morning stuck head down in a corner where he’d apparently been for some hours, my mother, who was visiting and had been asleep in the same room at the time, insisted that we call the vet and make the appointment to have him euthanized. While we waited for the time, several hours later, to leave for the appointment, he was purring on my lap, and it was hard – but this fastidiously clean cat also hadn’t been able to move out of his own piss, I’d had to clean him up. And he must have been miserably uncomfortable stuck in that corner, and I couldn’t stay up all night every night to make sure he wasn’t stuck again.

Talk to your vet. If you’ve got a good one, they can help you decide when it’s time.

13

It really is a good run, and for most of it he’s been pretty healthy and happy. I think my wife will be ready in a week or two, it’s just tough to make the decision when he doesn’t seem to be suffering relentlessly.

14

Dogs are very stoic. By the time, you see the suffering, they’re really suffering. That’s why it’s such a difficult decision. Good vibes to all three of you.

15

So sorry for the situation. But, always remember you gave him a great life.

16

Odesio, I am so sorry. Losing a beloved pet is about as bad as losing a beloved relative, I get teary thinking about it.

The link here is to a poem titled “His Apologies” by Rudyard Kipling. The first five words “Master, this is Thy servant” I had carved on the gravestone for my dog Nathan. The poem describes the like cycle of a beloved dog, from puppyhood to old age.

I hope you come to a resolution you and the family can stand We will all be thinking of you.

17

Honestly, judging by your OP I would agree with her. If a dog has an appetite he’s still getting some quality out of his life. This is coming from someone most familiar with hounds though, not terriers. Hounds are less bouncy even when they are young and just enjoy being in the same room as you sometimes mostly asleep.

I would advocate calling in one of those at-home euthanasia services. They cost more but I don’t think I could stand driving to the doc with an old friend, then driving home without him.

18

There is a place here in town that will come to the vet’s office to pick up your pet for cremation, so that at least you don’t have to drive home with the body to bury it. And in our vet’s lobby there is a candle with a notation that if the candle is lit a pet is being helped across the bridge. so please be patientl and respectful.

19

I want to drive home with the body to bury it; and also to show it to the other creatures, so they won’t go looking for their friend.

This is an area in which mileage varies drastically, of course; and also, some people don’t have a place which they can use as a burial ground.

20

My wife made the same very reasonable argument, and while I disagree in this particular case, her argument is valid and both of us just want what’s best for Buddy. Buddy on the other hand has been giving me surrupticiously hostile looks ever since I spoke to Mrs. Odesio and has made it a point to be underfoot while I’m in the kitche. He started losing his hearing when we was twelve and it’s pretty much gone now, but somehow I think he knows and is planning his vengeance. Ever since I drove him to the vet to be neutered he has favored my wife.

I took my mother to our vet to put her dog down last summer. Everything went rather smoothly and she had the option of having him cremated and the remains delivered to the vet’s office. Mom declined because she’s barely concerned with human remains let alone a beloved pet’s. Buddy’s going to be cremated and if Mrs. Odesio goes first I’ve got to make sure he’s buried with her. Even if I have to dig the darn hole myself.