I want to begin this narrative by disclosing that every sentence you will read here is my opinion. I have no solid study to back up whatever I say. There was no peer report of the validity of this narrative before I published it. I wrote this narrative for you because a dog that has been in our care at Kelsey's Dog House for a long time complete his stay with us this week. We will never again see him. He was laid to rest by his veterinarian. His owner's decision to put him down was an highly hard one to make, as it is for most of us.
Dogs Live Fast
Time
Dogs live very fast lives. They gestate quickly. They mature quickly. While mid-life, they achieve to a very quick beat. Their hearts beat rapidly, even at rest. Food goes down in very few gulps and then comes out the other end in a very short time. They focus on one thing for only a few seconds, and then they are on to something else. Their sleep-wake cycles are ordinarily much shorter than our own. Even their normal body climatic characteristic of 99 to 102 degrees indicates their physiology is running in overdrive. It's no wonder when dogs reach the late stages of their lives, their batteries run down very quickly.
The problems of old age for dogs ordinarily mirror our own. Blindness; deafness; and lack of mobility due to arthritis; loss of muscle tone; and faltering equilibrium are all part of the old age equation. Fittingly, a dog seems to reserve his sense of smell right to the very end. What distinguishes old age in dogs from that of humans is the speed at which dogs deteriorate. While many humans take decades to show the wear and tear of a long life, dogs, which live life in the fast lane, seem to reach a point at which their condition falls off a cliff.
An Old Dog
At this late stage, a dog is no longer himself. For example, although he may have been 100% trustworthy in doing his firm outdoors, reduced mobility and incontinence may cause him to ease himself indoors. He can no longer play, in the traditional sense, or even recognize because getting nearby is a chore. He may be disoriented most of the time because his senses no longer give him the feedback he needs to navigate. Or, he may plainly be too tired or ill to move nearby very much.
Many dogs develop serious disorders and illnesses in old age. A dog with serious condition issues will need to make frequent, expensive, and stressful visits to the vet's office. Old dogs with discrete disorders may contact varying degrees of chronic and acute pain. Pain medication may alleviate the pain but added dull a dog's already reduced senses and alertness.
Before I go further, I want to re-emphasize that what I am writing here is only my opinion, especially with regard to suffering. I do not believe dogs suffer in the sense we humans would report suffering. A dog in ache does not carry on a verbal dialogue with himself about his poor condition. He does not feel self-pity, nor does he agonize that his condition will worsen. I believe a dog does feel pain; and chronic pain does debilitate a dog. It makes him more inclined to hide, sleep, or act out of character. Having said that, I will also say a dog does not assign an emotional value to its pain as we humans often do. When we say, "That dog is suffering," we are falsely assigning a human attribution to the dog.
What it All Means
What does all this mean for a dog and our bond with that dog? As each of us has our own unique set of behavior we call personality, each dog has its particular identity. Additionally dogs, like humans have a role to play, a purpose, if you will. I believe each dog has a job in this world, either it is guarding a herd, watching the backyard, or plainly sitting in your lap to ease you. Some of these jobs are formal and trained, and others are assumed by accident or good fortune. In any case, dogs are ordinarily their happiest when they play a role that seems to fit their identity. When your dog has reached a point at which he can no longer do any of the things that make him a dog, when he cannot do his job, then he becomes a shell of what he once was. He may still be physically present, but his spirit is gone. To blend the problem, when his poor condition causes him to do things he never did before, such as accidentally peeing in the house, this causes him some degree of stress. A dog knows what he knows. When what a dog knows no longer applies, or something happens that seems beyond his control, he cannot rationalize to make sense of it.
Let's throw you into the mix. You remember your dog as a happy, vital companion. Your distinct vigor and approval was food for his soul. When all you can do for your dog is fret over his deteriorated condition, you send wave after wave of distress and worry in his direction. If you become frustrated because your old dog is soiling the house or acting strange, that also sends a message. Your dog looks to you for safety and comfort. Although you will actually do all things you physically can to make him comfortable when his condition fails, you may also be inadvertently sending emotional signals that make your dog's situation worse.
When It's Time
There comes a point in a dog's life when it is time to say goodbye. We would love to hang on to our best friend forever, but we know that is not going to happen. Your dog, though he may be ravaged by blindness, deafness, illness and other disorders, still looks like your dog. He is still warm and furry and his tail still wags when you pet him. Your memory of what he once was may fill in the details of a dog that is no longer there. He may not be suffering, but he is no longer fulfilled. It does not matter that he still looks and feels like your dog, because the dog you knew has departed.
Many of us take a long time to reach this windup and it's understandable. Any decision to put a dog to sleep is difficult, feels premature, and is often tainted with guilt. Possibly you feel your dog has brought you years and years of pleasure, and now you owe it to him to ease and reserve him for as long as he is willing to carry on. Again, this is a perfectly understandable and completely rational plan from a human perspective. Consider all things I have written here about how it looks from the dog's perspective.
Once your dog's heath slips off the edge, nature has no intention of restoring him. His senses have dulled. His mobility, as he knew it, has gone. He struggles to orient himself. He may be in pain, or so diminished by pain medication that he cannot do any of the things he once loved to do. The feedback he receives from you is laced with pity. He cannot do his job. He cannot even do normal body functions correctly. Worst of all, none of this makes any sense to him. The kindest, most loving act you can do at this point is to slowly help him find everlasting peace.
Is it Time to Put My Dog to Sleep?
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