Quality of life. Quality of life. Quality of life. This is your new mantra.
Quality of life is what you have to determine when your pet gets old or sick, or both. How do you define quality of life, and how do you measure it? And when it’s an animal—a pet who is considered a family member—how do you determine that its life is no longer worth living?
“Can he walk? Can he eat? Can he breathe? Can he glean any enjoyment whatsoever out of his days?” The online questionnaires ask this when searching for the answer to the dreaded question: How do you know when it’s time to euthanize your pet?
You begin contemplating the end. You wonder how many more days you can eke out. How many more meals you can try to hand feed your furry friend. How many more sleepless nights you will have from taking him out to pee. How many more mornings you will hold your own breath until you make sure your pet is still breathing.
One questionnaire asks, “Are you weary?” Yes, you are weary. You’re so weary you want to be euthanized yourself.
Of course, we would always prefer that end-of-life decisions were left up to nature. We want our pets to die peacefully, painlessly in their sleep. But nature doesn’t operate on our schedule. Nature pays no mind to our heartache—and healthcare costs—and the wish for a natural death as we watch in agony over their steady decline. To be fair, nature often does offer to take our loved ones before they grow too old to stand on their own legs or too confused to find their water dish. Out in the wild, the weak and injured become prey for the food chain. But we intervene with trips to the vet, with IVs and antibiotics, stitches and insulin, teeth cleaning and painkillers. We do whatever it takes to prolong the inevitable.
We love our pets so much. We want them to be with us forever. We don’t want to let go. We refuse to let go.
You go back online and take another quiz. “Rate from 1 to 10 your pet’s hurt, hunger, hydration, hygiene, happiness, and mobility.” Your score is off the chart. He aches too much to walk. He won’t eat—even though you’ve offered him grilled salmon, steak, chicken. He drinks water like he can’t get enough. His coat is dull and gray. He’s blind. He’s got diabetes, congestive heart failure, arthritis.
You could call a friend, who just put down his 18-year-old dachshund, to ask what you should do. But it’s ultimately your decision. So you spend the day doing simple tasks that allow your mind to work it out. You sew—and break the needle. You bake—and burn the bread.
Finally, you take your dog—your 15-and-a-half-year-old terrier mix—for a ride on the side-by-side. You speed down the gravel roads as fast as the little off-road vehicle will go. Your dog puts his face into the wind, his nose twitches with curiosity, he perks up like he’s his old self. Feeling the wind in his face is the only thing from which he can still derive pleasure. You’ve given him his last taste of what little quality of life he has left.
The websites say pet owners often wait too long. Their animals suffer needlessly. But on this windy ride he’s so alert. Maybe he could live longer. Maybe today is not the day for the vet to come to the house. But you’ve already made the appointment. It was so painful to come to this decision that to reverse it now will only cause more confusion, more crying. You’ve cried enough. You have your own quality of life to consider, and that quality has been diminishing along with your dog’s health.
Like humans, animals have their good and bad days. For a dog that has had an exceptionally good life, you acknowledge that it’s fitting for him to depart on one of his good days—even though your heart is shattering. You repeat the Quality of life mantra. Then you remind yourself that quality of life also applies to quality of death—and that “euthanasia” is the Greek word for “good death.”
You don’t believe it yet, but in the future you will realize that this “good death” is the greatest love you can show your pet. And love is the greatest, most enduring quality of all.
Beth Howard is an author and animal lover living in Donnellson, Iowa. She blogs at TheWorldNeedsMorePie.com.
The opinions expressed are not necessarily those of the university or Tri States Public Radio. Diverse viewpoints are welcomed and encouraged.
