So here is where I am.
I went to the vet today and got some Rx for anti-anxiety drugs. And I called my youngest son, who has been Echo’s best friend since he was 4 years old. He left for college in September, which of course may be part of what has stressed Echo. He has asked, and I agree, that Echo share our Thanksgiving with us as long as she is still fit to do so. And the vet thinks she should be. Then, after the holiday and after my son has a chance to say his farewell, I’ll take my friend in and we’ll say good-bye.
I lost my father to brain cancer 4 years ago. I wouldn’t have believed that the loss of my dog would engender the same feelings but here I am, feeling like I’m in hospice again, and waiting for time to take it’s toll.
The human heart is such an amazing thing but sometimes it’s a wonder that any of us survives having one.
I realize how appealing it is to think about our pets in this way, but I don’t think we should assume that our pets perceive and respond to actions with emotions similar to their owners.
As difficult as it may be, the owner is the one who ought to make the decision.
I’m so sorry, wonder9. I’ve been though this so many times and each time I think never again.
This last never again lasted two long dogless years until I gave in and adopted the woolly nuisance snoring at my feet. When her time comes, I’m sure I’ll say never again again, wait a decent amount of time and then adopt [again].
You and Echo will be in my thoughts. 
It’s not arguable that animals experience emotional distress. And yes, the owner is the one making the decision but the whole point of the thread was to ask for input on quality of life issues for a pet.
Have a nice day.
I hope you don’t do what I’ve done. Wish I had done it sooner. When I think of what was left of Jezzie by the time I convinced my vet to put her down, it breaks my heart.
Please don’t forget, you are doing it for the dog, not for you. I would have picked up all the poop and pee in the world if Jezzie had still been happy. She wasn’t.
My heart goes out to you. FTR, Jezzie is on my armoire, next to Critic, who we put down 4 years ago. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being buried somewhere I wouldn’t be. She was my shadow for 16 years.
I have to ask this, hopefully in a sensitive manner - um, are we talking stuffed or ashes here???
Not that the former would be bizarre or anything, but living dogs that knew the deceased might find this disturbing.
It depends on the size of your pet. Most places aren’t keen with folks dropping dead horses into shallow graves. But, from everything I’ve heard, burying dogs and cats on private property is fine.
One vet I know puts her cats into large planters, with a rose bush on top. That way, she can take them with her should she ever move houses.
I often suspect that folks who present themselves as superficially pleasant by saying things like “have a nice day” intend anything but. :dubious:
Do people ever look at you and tell you that you have nice shoes?
I hope you’re all happy. You’ve made me re-subscribe through my tears (crying so I couldn’t see to type in the credit-card number). 
Anyway. wonder9, I just wanted you to know you’re not alone. I’ve managed to convince my husband that our Ladybug must be put down. I think he’s going to try to take her to the vet Saturday. Needless to say, I’ll be spoiling the ever-lovin’ crap out of her the rest of the week.
The timeliness of this thread is amazing, as it’s nice to have the assurance that I’m not alone, and that we’re doing the right, self-less and responsible thing. I haven’t cried like this since I had my beloved Trouble-cat put down a few years ago.
To all you lovely people who helped me through this, an update
I waited to take Echo to the vet until last week, hoping, I guess that somehow age would reverse itself. I am ashamed to admit that the decision to take her rested far less on her state of being than on my state of comfort. She was miserable, frightened and so, so old. I just could not part with her even seeing that. But I did, finally, and probably too late, take her to the vet’s office. I sat on the floor with her at home and fed her all of the things I’d denied her over the years…potato chips, chicken, cookies, whatever crunched. (I didn’t do it earlier because I didn’t want her to have an upset stomach.) At the vet, she paced and worried and fretted. After the meds, she layed down and I held her head in my lap. There was pain I didn’t expect for her because the vet had difficulty finding a vein. And then she was gone. My Echo.
I have to give a huge thank you to any one who works in the field. You people are amazing and I don’t know how you do it.
Goodbye, Echo - you were loving and loved. My condolences to you and your family, wonder9.
I’m so sorry to hear it, I really am. I’ve put down 2 animals in less than 6 months and it’s a godawful heart break. FWIW for anyone else reading, usually the answer to the question “when is the right time?” the answer is “now”. Sad, but very true.
My heart breaks for you and I hope that you get back to happy memories soon. Echo had a great life with you and appreciated every moment with you, I am sure of that.
I’m thinking of you, sending good thoughts your way.
Sort of. Not really. No.
MonsterKitty was exactly one month sort of 18 years old. He’d owned me for 32 days less than 18 years. He’d been my bottle-fed kittybaby through 3 husbands and their kids, major brain injury, bankruptcy, 6 states, too many miscarriages . . . 18 years of reality, good and bad. Then he got sick. I couldn’t let him go. I should have, but I didn’t. If there is a hell, making him suffer for my selfishness will be my ticket in.
There are still 2 cats in my house. Two good cats who adore their 2-leg. I adore them, but there will never be another Monsterkitty. I have no idea how to live without critters in my house. MonsterKitty didn’t replace Chinook who didn’t replace Figaro. Panic, Sunshine, Bat, Incerta, Munch, Smooch, Freckles, Earring, Sugar, Precious, Figment and Mandu can’t be replaced either.
But – this is important – there will be other critters who need food and loves and, eventually, mourned. That’s the thing with critters. You love 'em, they die, and you keep loving 'em even while loving the new hairball-horker.
Life is bitter as well as sweet.
Dessicate and die.
To the OP: I’m anticipating your pain. My buddy, Boomer the beagle, is 16 years old. Because of life’s circumstances, we have spent most of that time together and alone. His mother made it to 17 before succumbing to age.
He is pretty much deaf at this point, otherwise not so bad, but his mother was completely out of it at the time.
My heart bleeds.
wonder9, again, my deepest sympathies.
A few years ago, my 11 year old Boxer was dying of cancer, and we knew. As it spread, a tumor developed either in, or impinged on, her spine, and she gradually lost control of her legs.
I decided that when she could no longer walk without help, it would be time to put her down. In real life, we passed that point by about 2 weeks because of a financial hardship.
The vet that put her down also removed her heart because she was part of a university study, and the wanted it. After that was done, the vet said Sadie had about a month to go before the lung tumors did her in the hard way. I was sad to put her down, but glad that we avoided the really hard suffering.