Our dachshund, Charlie, has congestive heart failure. After trying several treatments and nursing him along, we and the veterinarian agree that it is time to stop and let Charlie take the journey into the next realm. Charlie has been an important part of our household for the last nine years and seeing him suffer has been heartbreaking.
My question for debate is this: The euthanasia will take place via IV anesthetic at the doctor’s office. Should we (my wife, 17 year old son, and I) be present for the procedure? We have never had to do this before. The doctor has suggested not going. However, we really hate the thought of his taking this final journey without us there to hold his paw. When euthanizing a pet, have y’all gone in with him/her, or said your goodbyes in the waiting room? After the fact, how do you look back on your decision? Would you do it differently?
I wish I could have gone. I was seven time zones away when my last kitty had to be put down, and I was heartbroken that I couldn’t be there with him (though I’m sure I would have been a complete wreck if I had been there with him). After 18 years, I felt I owed him that much.
Your dog will prefer you to be there. I’m surprised the doc recommended you not be there. I’ve never had a vet suggest this. They’ve all been very understanding and accommodating in allowing us to be there when we’ve had to take this step with our pets.
As to the question, I would suggest that you stay with Charlie unless it is going to upset you too much. Your being upset could upset Charlie and the vet might have made his suggestion based on that premise, but if you prefer to be there to say goodbye and you do not think that it will be too emotional, then stay.
My girlfriend and I were present when we had her cat euthanized. It was *by far *the most emotionally trying thing I have ever been through. Maybe I’ve lived a pretty charmed life so far (I haven’t lost any close family), but doing this was far, far worse than having any of my other pets die.
I’ve gone in except when I had to make the call to euthanize when I wasn’t anywhere nearby (vet calls from the OR to pronounce the situation dire, etc.). My husband was unable to bear going in the first time he was there, but I went, and he went in the last time. He was surprised at how swift and quiet the process was.
And I’ll add what a vet told me when I had to have my first ferret put to sleep - often, this is the last loving act from an owner to a dear pet.
You should go. Later when you’re questioning your decision (and you will) you’ll know you did everything you can for your pet, right up until the end.
If they give you the option, have them give the pet a shot to relax them/make them sleepy, THEN, when you’re ready, give them the shot to euthanize them. Some places just go right to the euthanization shot. It’s a bit traumatic to see your pet going from normal to glassy-eyed in a split-second.
I would advise if at all possible you get someone to drive you there and back, someone who can wait in the vet’s lobby for you. You may end up breaking down more than you’d expect, and not having to worry about driving would be helpful.
Your vet should have you fill out the paperwork ahead-of-time (not after). If they don’t offer, ask. You may not be in any shape for paperwork after your pet has passed.
My two terminally ill pets that I had euthanized, the procedure was done in the back seat of my car, as they were used to it there and felt safe, in the parking lot at the vet. I held them in my arms while they were given the (overdose of barbituate).
Yes, very hard indeed. But that’s what is owed them.
The vet’s office may also offer a variety of options for dealing with the remains - the vet we go to has anything from “mixed cremation with others, buried in a pet cemetary” to “individual burial/cremation with plaque” to special urns, commemorative items, etc. Might want to ask about this beforehand as well, so you’re not standing there with your pet and trying to figure out if you want a tin for the ashes versus a full burial, etc.
At the very least, one of you can be there to pet your dog at the moment of euthanasia, and the more questionably-strong family members can say goodbye right before that point, while he’s mildly sedated and calm, then step out of the room for the last part.
I’ve done this twice in the vet’s office and once has a vet come to my house. All three times I was glad to be with my pets at the end and glad to witness how peaceful it was for them. The one at home was by far the most peaceful for me and I’d recommend doing that. We found the vet in the yellow pages and he was extremely kind and comforting and gentle. I would never not be there and would really question the vet about why he recommended against it. Just remember it’s the one last thing you can do for your friend.
The vet may give you options as to your level of participation. There are two shots. One will make him fall asleep. The second is, well, the last one. You may stay until they are asleep and then leave. Or stay for the last one.
I live in NYC and as such, I can’t bury my pet in my backyard. So cremation was the only option. Months later I did put my last cat’s ashes in the river.
It’s 100% up to you. Unless something very unusual happens, Charlie will be given a large dose of barbituates to kill him, which is very much like the proverbial being put to sleep - it’s just intense drowsiness for a second or two then actual sleep, which of course then means bang.
Do you REALLY want to think rationally about this? Think through the consequnces of that. If you do, you have to confront what is meant by “the next realm”.
I don’t think it’s at all sensible to think too rationally about this in the circumstnaces. Just work out who amongst you is comfortable there. Who amonst you wants to be there. And so on. There should be plenty of space. And of course you MUST think about who Charlie loves. Get as many of you there as possible for who will be a sick dog. There to speak sweet nothingings into his ear and have him lick you, but really this will be a very quick end.
There are various ends avaliable to the bodies of valued pets by the way. I am still angry about what happened to my most recent dead dog, even though I haven’t any rational reason for being so at all as her body was super duper dead at the time. But perhaps check into that and preservation services are very quick.
In our conversation, it is possible I misunderstood what the vet recommended regarding being present in the room. We have known this doctor for a long time (I taught all three of his kids in school, he has treated all three of our dogs). We all knew this conversation was coming, but I knew he didn’t want to have it. Charlie is normally a very happy, friendly, tail-wagging kind of guy. One of the things that helped make up the doctor’s mind was that Charlie no longer seemed to be that guy. He is still very warm and affectionate, but he is very slow and seems to be struggling each moment.
We have two other dachshunds at home. One is older than Charlie and is generally rather aloof (even when she was younger). She appears mostly to tolerate the other dogs than really like them much. Our youngest dog is Linus. He thinks that Charlie hung the moon. Charlie is missing his right hind foot, so when he runs, he tucks his leg up under him. More than once, I have seen Linus (who has four perfectly good legs and feet), tuck his right hind leg up to run. If Charlie does it, then that is how it must be done. We’re worried about Linus missing his bestest buddy. The doctor has given some suggestions about handling this. How have you handled “breaking the news” to other dogs when one dog has to go on ahead?
In May, 2003, our third child, Hayden, died. He was a full-term still birth. That summer, a friend’s dog had puppies. Our young son (the now-17-year-old) sat on the floor and played with the puppies. The future Charlie was the rolly-polly puppy with the missing foot and half a tail. He came and curled up in our son’s lap and would not move. Charlie chose us. We are glad that Hayden will get to play with our Charlie dog. Charlie helped us heal our broken hearts that year. Our daughter is now 23 and lives too far away to be able to visit for Charlie’s journey. Thanks in part to your suggestions, at least one of us will be in the room helping Charlie in his final moments.