I Had My Dog Euthanized Yesterday
Yesterday I took Oreo to be euthanized. He has been my pet and friend and a big chunk of my heart for 16 years.
Quite well I remember coming home late one evening, from a long day of work, to find this strange, frisky dog on the carport. I assumed him to be a stray or to belong to a neighbor, so a couple of times I shooed him away. As soon as my back was turned, he would return with a slink, almost crawling, insistent that he belonged. The porch light came on and my wife came out to inform me that we now have a new dog. She and the kids drove across town to answer a classified ad in the newspaper.
A friendly and frisky border collie mix needs a good home. Free! And so Oreo was now part of our family.
Somewhere along the way he became my dog. Oh, he belonged to the family, helped us to raise three kids, and kind-of/sort-of liked my wife. We played. We took walks together. And we had lots of conversations. Well, I pronounced the words while he wagged the tail. I think he appreciated that I considered him as an equal, which might say a bit about my self-image, but I think mostly states the value I have for pets. As a young boy I came to understand the importance of friendship with a dog. Life at home was sometimes rough. No dad around. But we lived next to what seemed to be an endless forest, and I had two mutts that loved to roam the woods with me. Thus Blackie, George, and I spent our summers and evenings after school. I learned lots of things, like how to enjoy my own company, and how to appreciate God’s creation, and especially that a good dog makes a mighty fine friend.
Oreo has tolerated a lot from this highly imperfect owner. We’ve lived at several different places. Along the way he has been snake bitten- right on the nose! And it seems he has been beaten-up by every dog in every neighborhood. He likes the ladies, but he is a terrible fighter. Anyways, it was all in vain, for long ago we saw the wisdom of having him neutered. And he forgave me even that indiscretion, a reminder of the unconditional love of such a companion. Moving to our present home was a radical change from the rural settings of the past. Oreo was confined within a chain link fence, and such proved a difficult adjustment to his carefree living. One day I noticed he had licked bare the tops of his front paws, an obvious sign that he was unhappy. So the next day we began what would prove a rewarding regimen of many years, our morning and evening walks. Very much he enjoyed these times, and all seemed well again.
About two years ago he ceased the walks, in spite of prodding from our younger dog and myself. No longer could his old bones and joints tolerate the pounding. Thus he confined himself to what I thought to be a pampered life in the backyard. Most days he would laze under the shrubbery. And he grew older. His demise was consistent and I’m sure common to all, whether dog or human. Cataracts. Soft food. Short temper. And, a noticeable change of personality. Family and friends began to tell me it was time to consider “putting him down”.
But this was my friend, my pal, and in my estimation he had earned the right to love and grace. So I was stubborn about the matter. But, time can be rather cruel.
Three months ago we agreed he could no longer come into the house, because either he could not or would not control his bowels. He never seemed to understand, and would stand at the patio door for hours, longingly and pleadingly looking into the house. Sometimes I would relent, and usually it was not a good thing. He would awaken me at night with a sad bark, his plea to come into the house. I would go out to scold him, and then feel badly, knowing he simply was sad about the whole matter.
One night last week he barked again, several times. I went out to find him in a sitting position, unable to stand because of the combination of arthritis and a dislocated hip. And, thus I knew it was time. Still, I waited another week. The finality of the matter was not easy for me to admit.
Maybe he would get better… Perhaps he would die in his sleep… And it became obvious. For whatever reasons, Oreo's body was not ready to die. But it was time. It was the right thing to do. And, as the person who loved and knew him the most, it was my responsibility and privilege to take care of the matter. My old friend had always counted on me to do what was good and right. And this time I would not let him down.
Yesterday I called the vet and made the appointment. 3:30 p.m.
Would I want the ashes and a memorial urn? No, I don’t think so.I called him into the house, one last time to sleep in his beloved spot, sprawled out on the floor with sun streaming upon him from the window, oblivious to the rest of the day. And several times I sat next to him, just to scratch his ears and say some stupid things. He’s almost deaf, so it did not matter what I said. And he has come to the point that all he really wants is to be left alone. But these moments were more for myself than him. Once again I thought about this fine friend and loyal companion. In the quietness of the moment it seemed we confirmed, together, that the timing was right and the issue settled. There was peace.
I did not feel much like working for the rest of the day. And I am sure such would seem silly to anyone that has never loved an old dog. So I sat in my easy chair and listened to my mp3 player. I did not want conversation- just reflection. And in just a brief moment it was time to go.
Debbie went in to say goodbye. She did not say much, but there were tears in her eyes. She took a photo. But I will not see it. I do not want to remember Oreo as an old, worn-out dog, lying upon the carpet. He was an energetic and frisky fellow who loved to play fetch and go for long walks, and bounced with joy when his friends came along.
Yeah, that's what I will remember, and with a smile. Carefully I picked him up and carried him to the car. He seemed lighter than before, and later the vet would confirm that he was dehydrated and likely suffering from early kidney failure. He felt so frail. And yet, characteristically, he submitted to whatever I was doing, although surely he was confused. Or, just tired. He simply lay in my arms. And when I sat him in the car, he just stayed.
By the time we arrived at the vet, I was pretty much an emotional mess. I was determined to do my best not to be a crybaby-
who wants to deal with this 52-year-old man bawling over an old dog? But, it was certainly a somber time as I walked into the lobby. The receptionist seemed to understand for there was little small talk. She ushered us into an exam room where the vet would soon come. And so we sat for about twenty minutes. I am glad there was a delay. It allowed me to gain composure and assurance this was the right . At first I was telling myself,
Get control. It's just an old dog! But I set aside that strategy, and found much more comfort by repeatedly telling myself,
This is the most loving thing to do.The vet and his assistant entered the room and right away it was obvious this was not an enjoyable task for them. They were professional of demeanor, which I really needed at that moment. Clinically he explained the process. He would give Oreo a shot to relax him, and thus within five minutes he would fall into a deep sleep. Then he would be placed upon the table and administered a dose of phenylbarbital. And quickly his heart would cease. He mentioned complications which could arise, but assured these were very unlikely. The lady sensed my distress and asked if I was sure that I wanted to be present?
This was my friend. There was no way I would abandon him at this moment.With the first shot, which seemed painless, quickly he lay down and slept like a baby. I have not seen Oreo at such rest in quite some time. The pain of his ancient body no longer seemed a hindrance. I stroked his dry and matted fur,and thought of how it once felt so silky. In my mind I pictured him running through green and rolling fields, with that big and broad smile, leaping with unbounding energy.
Ahh, that would be nice! And I was at his side as the last shot was administered. My hand was upon his chest as his breathing became light. Then it was over. The doctor checked with his stethoscope. Oreo was gone. The nurse asked if I would like a few moments alone. I said no. It was over. My heart was not heavy, and I was able to walk from the room with composure and peace.
For many years I have believed that life is much more than the physical. Do dogs go to heaven? I am not sure. But I am convinced that a loving and gracious God has immensely gifted my life with this amazing friend. He has promised that He has gone to prepare a place for me, and that one day He will come again and take me to be with Him in that place, forever. And since that place will filled with amazing happiness and joy---
maybe there will be room for a little dog that has proven to be my gift from God?(If this all seems too sappy for you...get over it!)
12.09.08 (12:21 pm) [
edit]
posted by:
surrogate (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (9:39 am)
This was the most beautiful thing I've read in a long, long time.
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (10:06 am)
Reply to: surrogate
Thanks. It was tough. A big and most useful part of writing, I believe, is to unburden the soul. Just to get it out is a major part of the healing process.
Thanks for reading.
posted by:
Barb (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (10:23 am)
Dave, I know exactly what it feels like and what you are going thru. We had our precious Duchess put down several years ago - cancer in her bones, no hope for treatment; and then Kitty-Wootie, the cat who adopted us - he had kidney failure and felt like a ragdoll when it was his hime; and then Bessie. Bessie was the best bassett hound ever and I still miss her even tho it's been 2-1/2 years. I took Duchess and Kitty-Wootie by myself, too, as you did, but with Bessie, Joe went with me and it was the saddest thing we've ever done together. But it was good for us to be there supporting each other - no one should have to go thru something like that alone - in that exam room with the last breath leaving your best friend. So I know you will miss him and you'll go the door to let him in or feed him and then realize, he's not there. But he's in your memories and nothing can take that away (we hope -old age has a way of stealing even that, I hear). It's so sad, I'm really sad for you.
posted by:
Ladyg (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (10:40 am)
So sorry about Oreo, they are like a part of the family. Remember the good times.
posted by:
mimi (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (10:41 am)
ah, dave, the words and feelings made me cry, but i, too, know that you did the kindest and most generous thing in releasing Oreo! loving you xoxoxo
posted by:
PirateGirl (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (10:45 am)
"Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them..." Matthew 6:26
- I always liked this verse - What I always take from it is that God loves all his creations.
I too love animals and have always had them in my life. ( My folk's "first child" was a cat) - we had cats, dogs, and even ferrets who were part of our family - I remember one cat in particular who passed in my arms in the middle of the night. He had become ill, and it was a matter of time. I know that God woke me that night to find him trying to hide - I held him and told him I love him and that it was ok - he took his last breath and was finally at peace and pain free.
You and your family are in my prayers as you remember fondly your precious friend Oreo
God Bless
(((hugs))))
-PG
posted by:
OldSchool (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (11:43 am)
So sorry to hear this. It is amazing how our pets can truly touch our lives and become interwoven in them.
Your words were heart-felt and touching. Thanks for sharing and sorry again for the loss. God bless.
posted by:
fractalmom (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (12:14 pm)
rough. sorry PD. been there. They will all be waiting for us to join us when we rise again.
posted by:
rosietulips (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (1:40 pm)
*sniff* You and Oreo were very lucky to have each other. I am sorry for your loss.
posted by:
sweetvampiress (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (1:44 pm)
Sounds like he lived a pretty happy life, with such a great friend in you. Losing a pet is like losing a family member. I'm sorry to hear of your loss.
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (2:10 pm)
Reply to: Barb
I don't remember kittie-wootie. But I remember your fine dogs. Yes, it is a sad time, but not a decision I regret. And we now have two good dogs and friends. These guys weren't with us last year. Cassie, my wife's little Shitzu, and Big Dog, my German Shepherd that showed up one day and nobody seems to claim as their own. So, he's mine.
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (2:10 pm)
Reply to: rosietulips
Thanks. Good friends are special when they come your way. I'll miss him.
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (2:13 pm)
Reply to: sweetvampiress
Yeah, it hit me pretty hard. I'll miss him and I'm quite sad. But, to keep matters in perspective, I just talked to a lady who keeps the ashes of all her deceased pets. In her Will is documented that one is to be buried with her, and another with her husband. Now, that is a level of affection that I've yet to reach.
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (2:13 pm)
Reply to: fractalmom
You think so? That would be nice...
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (2:15 pm)
Reply to: OldSchool
Thanks. Now, how about a post or two about animals from the 80's. Surely there would be some movies and television shows about dogs, cats, horses, etc.?
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (2:16 pm)
Reply to: Ladyg
Oh, I've no doubt the good times will linger in my memory far more than the last few sad days. That's a great thing about remembering, at least for most of us.
posted by:
sweetvampiress (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (2:16 pm)
Reply to: PastorDave
We had our dog and cat cremated and had the ashes for quite some time. I would have loved to keep them myself, but I believe they have been lost over the years. I'm not sure I would have them buried with.
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (2:17 pm)
Reply to: mimi
"releasing" - what a great word! Released from his pain and suffering, freed to something much better. Now, that is comforting. Thanks.
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (2:21 pm)
Reply to: PirateGirl
Thank you.
I'm not very attached to cats. At least, not as with dogs, which seem more personal. But we have a cat, a rather old cat, who seems quite healthy as well as very independent. He allows me the privilege feed him and care for him, and rarely to even pet him. All according to his timing. He's a good cat- as far as cats go!
posted by:
inkspector (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (5:39 pm)
It always is a tough decision but when you know it is time, it is the right decision.
I am sure you will feel and hear Oreo around you from time to time in the future.
posted by:
PirateGirl (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (7:28 pm)
Reply to: PastorDave
You're welcome PD - thanks for sharing how special Oreo is to you :)
- Seems most people are either cat people or dog people, I tend to like both - well, I should say, all, animals. We have had some great cats and dogs growing up, and even the ferrets had wonderful personalities! - I've heard it said about cats and dogs - "a dog will come to you when you call it, a cat will take your number and get back to you at their convienence" - LOL!
- We have a siamese/calico mixed cat right now, and from what I understand, siamese are very affectionate, and even greet you at the door when you come home - our cat has definitely lived up to this trait as when we open the door, there she is, just waiting to be loved ( ok, fed first, but then, definitley loved!) ;)
posted by:
auntconi (
reply)
post date:
12.09.08 (9:09 pm)
Your words were a beautiful tribute to Oreo...
I do believe someone was looking out for your best interest when Big Dog showed up at your door... almost as if Oreo ordered 'a replacement' ~ ((hugs))
posted by:
fractalmom (
reply)
post date:
12.10.08 (3:46 am)
Reply to: PastorDave
I do. God loves me, why would my pets NOT join me in eternity?
posted by:
Chad (
reply)
post date:
04.11.09 (10:03 pm)
PastorDave-Thanks for this original writing. As I type these words, I check on my own pal of nearly 14 years. It seems the time is near for my Sam. Reading your blog has assured me that I can be strong and stay with Sam til the end. He has put up with alot and so have I. That's why we love each other, I guess. I'll miss my Sammy Dog, but also I believe that God takes care of ALL HIS creatures in a way that we may not understand now. Sam may not make it until tomorrow morning ---Easter morning. It would be a fitting and humbling reminder of the sacrifice, and a reminder that life has pain, but He is always present for us.
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
04.12.09 (6:01 am)
Reply to: Chad
It is Easter Sunday morning. I've just returned from Sunrise service, and found your reply. I hope Sam and you are o.k. You're right, what a fitting day for your good friend to pass to a better place. Ah, but a dog can teach us so much about love! May you find grace, and peace, at this time. God bless.
posted by:
John (
reply)
post date:
05.26.09 (11:19 am)
PastorDave thank you for your words. I actually have an appointment today at 5:45 to have my dog put to sleep. He is a 10 year old Akita that has been with me since a puppy. He slowly stopped barking, walking up steps, and now he can barely stand, it appears that he can not function with his rear legs. I am very sad, to the point where I googled "I have to euthanize my dog" and your blog popped up. I literally broke out in tears when you mentioned that you stayed in the room with your dog, I don't think I can do it. I will be taking him home with me though and I have prepared a grave on our property. I am 38 years old and I would have never thought it would be this difficult to put him down. He has been my partner in the protection of my family. He would be the one that would watch my kids as they played in the yard. I will miss him very much, I hope I will be able to handle it today and not start blubbering in the vet's office. Once again thanks for your words.
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
05.26.09 (2:33 pm)
Reply to: John
It is 5:30 p.m. as I read your words. How sad. And yet, necessary, and the most loving thing to do. May you find peace about the decision and strength for the task.
posted by:
John (
reply)
post date:
05.26.09 (5:22 pm)
It's done, when I attemtped to pick him up he whimpered in pain, but he never snapped at me; loyal to the end. The vet was nice enough to come to my vehicle and put him down, and it was my plan to leave prior to the second shot. The doctor had me hold his head in my arms as he administered the first shot at which time he gave a slight whimper and then went limp, I was then ready to leave prior to the second shot, but the assistant advised that the one shot put him down. It's funny how that worked, despite knowing that I should be there for the entire thing but me still wanting to leave, the powers tobe had me stay I think for my own good. He died in my arms and I think that is the way it should have been, your were right about that. Thanks again. I know it was the rigth thing to do, but it wan not easy.
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
05.26.09 (5:28 pm)
Reply to: John
I noticed how quickly and totally that first shot really knocked him out. Apparently your vet did it a bit differently. And, apparently, it was absolutely right for you and your beloved friend. Like I've said previously, I do not know for sure if dogs go to Heaven. I'd like to think so, since Heaven is supposed to be a perfect place for us, filled with love and joy. Some of my greatest experiences of both, most pure, were from my loyal pet.
Have a peaceful rest of the day!
posted by:
Teresa Anderson (
reply)
post date:
06.01.09 (8:51 am)
I can't hardly type this through all the tears but there have been a few wonderful four legged friends in my life that I sure hope I see again...
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
06.01.09 (9:24 am)
Reply to: Teresa Anderson
Teresa, thanks for reading! I had Oreo when I lived in Cochran. He loved living next to the swamps and woods of Gum Creek, spending hours wandering the countryside. Of course he was also bitten by a snake and whipped by a few stray dogs! But it was nice living in the country and not having to confine my pet- I don't know if there are many places where that luxury still exists.
Yep, a good dog makes a very fine friend.
posted by:
GodofPie (
reply)
post date:
07.25.09 (6:52 pm)
I googled "I euthanized my dog today" and I found you. Although I have owned dogs my entire adult life, this is the first time I have had to go through this. This was one of the hardest thing that I have ever had to do but, like you, I know that being there, beside Pixie, with her head in my lap, was the right thing to do. I'm glad I "manned up" and didn't just let the vet euthanize her before I got there. I am an atheist and I wish I could have the comfort from a belief that all my past pets will be waiting for me at the end of life, but alas I know that it is not to be. And, FYI, I cried like a baby from beginning to end. She had been at the vets for 3 days trying to get her kidneys to function again and they brought her to me on a lead from their kennel. I welled up as soon as I saw her and didn't stop boo-hooing until I left the vet. As with all mourning, today is a little easier but reading your blog sent me running for the tissue. Thanks for giving a place to ramble!
Rev. Jim
The Church of the Apathetic Agnostic
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
07.25.09 (7:43 pm)
Reply to: GodofPie
Thanks, Jim. And I guess I am agnostic when it comes to dogs and Heaven- I'd like for it to be true, but I just don't know. So much concerning life, and even more so God, involves faith.
I miss Oreo. Now I have another dog, a fine dog, who is devoted to me and whom I enjoy very much. And when I think of Oreo I think of so many of the good experiences, so there is no sadness. I believe you'll come to this point, too.
Thanks for dropping by!
posted by:
Kate (
reply)
post date:
10.03.09 (4:11 am)
I have trouble sleeping at night, wondering if I did the right thing for my 16 year old cocker spaniel. Your words helped. I dont know that I am ready for another dog, but I feel the same as you did. I only wish that I had a concrete sign that I did the right thing. I guess in time...
posted by:
Kim (
reply)
post date:
10.06.09 (4:46 pm)
I am carrying a huge amount of guilt over having my dog Penny euthanized. I feel terrible about the possibility of stealing time from her. She was a wonderful little Jack Russell, 14 years old. She was arthritic, deaf, and had eye problems. And horrible mouth problems. And yet, I still don't feel that I had the right to take her life from her. And how can I accept that she is just "dead". I have seen more compassion from some animals than I have people. How can there not be a place for them in Heaven.
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
10.06.09 (4:55 pm)
Reply to: Kate
If you thought about the matter carefully, and I think especially if it was a matter that touched your heart deeply, then you did the right thing. Usually with matters such as this, we are conflicted, but above it all we know what should be done- the right thing. God bless you!
posted by:
PastorDave (
reply)
post date:
10.06.09 (4:57 pm)
Reply to: Kim
She's not just dead. You've some fine memories to cherish. And, seems to me, most folk believe there is room in God's plan for such beloved friends. That sounds mighty good to me!
