Saying bye to Bear: Decision to euthanize terminally ill pet is a wrenching one
Bear at age 1
But this was a trip like no other. The scene we’d just left in the house flashed through my mind: our 6-year-old daughter hysterical with grief, our 3-year-old son crying, and my husband trying desperately to keep it together.
I squeezed my eyes shut, took a deep, shaky breath, and threw the car into reverse. As I drove away, Bear looked back at the house — the last time he would ever see it.
Then he heaved a deep, wracking cough, and the words of my vet friend ran through my head: “You’re doing a noble thing by giving him a dignified death.”
It didn't stop me from feeling like an executioner.
In the beginning
Bear entered our lives with a purpose. We already had one dog, our spoiled “first child,” Bailey. I was newly pregnant with our first real child. Life was going to drastically change for Bailey, and Kevin and I wanted him to have a companion.
The puppy that we brought home and named Bear for his voluminous fur had other ideas about his place in the family. He promptly terrorized Bailey into submission and built a connection with his humans that left no question as to whose dog he was. He and Bailey became great buddies, but he was not Bailey’s dog.
Bear and Belle in the early days
When we brought Belle home from the hospital, Bear was captivated. Whenever she cried, he hovered near her while Bailey hid. Whenever she spit up, he’d come running to perform cleanup duty. And when she started using the potty seat — well, let’s just say there was an incident after which no one kissed him for days.
He slept next to her crib whenever we let him. As she got older and moved to a big bed, Bear would settle down in her room in the evening like clockwork, without having to be asked.
We added to our family again when Bear was 4. From birth Wes was louder and wilder than Belle, but none of it fazed Bear. In photos of the kids, Bear can usually be spotted in the background. He wanted to be part of the action, and it often drove us crazy. His big paws would scatter pieces on a game board, his tail knocked over carefully built towers. He would stand too close to Belle when she swung outside, and inevitably get thwacked.
But Bear was incredibly careful around my mother, who has multiple sclerosis and is unsteady on her feet. When she would descend the stairs in our house, he’d patiently walk behind her, instead of blowing by like he did with everyone else. He saved his best smiles for her. He would have been a great therapy dog.
Getting the bad news
A couple of weeks after his 7th birthday this past November, Bear developed an occasional cough. Consulting by phone, our veterinarian said it sounded like allergies.
Two weeks later, he stopped eating. A visit to the vet ended in the worst possible diagnosis: his body was riddled with cancer, and he had less than a week to live. There was nothing we could do.
The duo in 2009
Jen Eyer | AnnArbor.com
It was a Thursday. We had two options: schedule him to be euthanized the next day, or wait. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever faced in my life. It felt premature since he was still mobile. I had always imagined our dogs would be on their deathbeds when we put them down.
But we didn’t want him to suffer, and we didn’t want him to crash over the weekend and end up in an unfamiliar animal hospital. We wanted this to happen in his doctor’s office, with his doctor. We also worried that seeing him deteriorate would scare the kids. So we decided to go ahead.
We broke the news to Belle. “Bear is very, very sick, and he’s going to die.” She unraveled.
“Is the doctor going to help him die?” she asked between sobs. I don’t know how she knew about that, but I wasn’t going to lie. “Yes,” I said.
Our family spent that night and the next day alternately crying, spoiling Bear, and going on with life. Our 5 p.m. appointment loomed. I was to take him while Kevin stayed home with the kids. When the time came, I felt panicky. I wanted to call and cancel. I didn’t think I could do it.
I still don’t know where I got the strength to gather him up and walk out the door. To drive him to the vet’s office. To walk him in, stumbling over him because I was so blinded by tears.
And then we got to the quiet exam room, where a blanket had been spread on the floor for him. Our doctor was sympathetic and reassuring. And he went peacefully, his head cradled in my lap, me whispering in his ear.
Attempting to adjust
It’s been eight weeks since that day, and we’re adjusting to being a one-dog household again. It’s quieter and less hectic, and I don’t like it, so I’m training Bailey to be properly underfoot. I block him in with us so he can’t go hide, and I feed him scraps while I’m cooking.
In the evening when the kids head for bed, he goes into Belle’s room, without having to be asked. He has assumed Bear’s role of night protector, with one big difference: instead of sleeping on the floor, he sleeps muzzle-to-nose in the bed with her.
Belle, Kevin and I still have bouts of sadness, and Wes still asks when Bear is coming home. But I've made peace with our decision to put him down when we did. As hard as it was, it was the right thing to do for the kids, and most importantly, for him.
Jen Eyer can be reached at 734-623-2577 or jeneyer@annarbor.com.
Comments
Ann English
Sat, May 15, 2010 : 6:06 p.m.
It's been 22 years since my yellow Labrador died, but she left lasting memories, right to this day. She was a great icebreaker when it came to meeting new neighbors, so friendly unconditionally. The only place she went by car was the vet, and apparently had good memories of feeling better after her visits there; once she went out to the car, waiting to be let into it, for she wasn't feeling well; she didn't understand that appointments had to be made to go there. I didn't understand why her spine started to show through her once-smooth back, until her liver cancer had reached an advanced stage. The morning she was put down, she used the last of her leg strength to get into the car, with her usual hopeful expression on her face of getting better. She had to be carried into the office, and I told the doctor that I didn't want to see her put down, but I did bring up the subject first.
MjC
Mon, Feb 1, 2010 : 8:03 p.m.
You did the right thing for Bear. My deepest sympathies to you and your entire family.
Heidi Hess Saxton
Mon, Feb 1, 2010 : 7:56 p.m.
Dear Jen: Last Christmas we watched my friend's dog, 12, whose hip dysplasia made it painful even to walk outside. I'd known him since he was a pup, running and playing with my first dog, Missy. Missy was killed three years ago - a devastating loss for the whole family -- when a momentary lapse of attention allowed her to run into the path of a truck barrelling down Platt Road. When Jack died, my children said sadly, "Well, I guess Missy has a frisbee partner in heaven now." Somehow imagining the two dogs romping and cavorting made the loss a little easier to bear. In his book "A Travel Guide to Heaven" Anthony DeStefano reiterates this idea when he says that with God, no love is wasted. If heaven won't be heaven for you without Bear, you can be sure God will find a way to make it happen. That's a loving Father for you! Blessings, Heidi Saxton
Sid Korpi
Mon, Feb 1, 2010 : 2:50 p.m.
By the sheer number of comments you've received, you can know you're not alone in your grief over a pet's passing. It always amazed me when I would encounter those callous individuals who proclaim, "What's the big deal? It was just a dog (cat, gerbil, horse, etc.). You can just go get another one at the pound." No one would dream of saying to a parent, "Oh, too bad you lost your kid. Lucky you can always adopt some more." It defies logic to assert that we shouldn't mourn the passing of a friend that showed us unconditional love, loyalty, affection, etc. 24/7. That surely has to leave a bigger hole in our daily lives than the passing of, say, a distant cousin with whom we only shared a Christmas-card-based relationship. It was because I'd lost my mother, stepfather, uncle, two dogs, two cats, cockatiel and 15-year marriage over a few years' time that I wrote "Good Grief: Finding Peace After Pet Loss." Our feelings of intense grief over a pet's death often equal (and sometimes even surpass) those we feel for a human loss; I believe this can be linked to our sense of total responsibility for these precious animals' health and well-being. Stories from people from all over the globe, as well as viewpoints from various animal-related professionals and even spiritual leaders, are included in the book. I invite you to check it out at www.goodgriefpetloss.com if you feel the need of continued support in your healing process. With sincere sympathy for your loss of your beloved Bear. He was a beautiful dog.
Katherine Lawrence
Mon, Feb 1, 2010 : 11:30 a.m.
Thank you for sharing your story, which made me cry. I had to euthanize our 14-year-old cat just 7 weeks ago. She was dying of kidney failure, and we did everything we could to maintain her quality of life as long as possible. It can be such a hard decision to know when to let go because pets can seem so normal until their illness has advanced to a stage of discomfort. I had hoped to use a visiting vet when it came time to euthanize our cat (because she hated to go driving), but unfortunately she deteriorated rapidly in the middle of the night and we had to take her to an emergency clinic (with our sleeping 5-month-old son in the car seat). My heart goes out to you for your difficult, brave decision, and I'm sure it was the right one.
Theresa Taylor
Mon, Feb 1, 2010 : 10:38 a.m.
Uuuugh. My heart just breaks for you and your family. So many of us have had to make this tough decision. I lost my beloved cat Maeda last summer and it was devastating. They really are irreplaceable family members. Beautifully written!
Kelly Tinsley
Mon, Feb 1, 2010 : 10:08 a.m.
I'm so sorry for your loss :( My family lost our golden retriever last month, he was 14 years old and it is SO hard... it's like losing a sibling or a child, and having to make that choice to put a dog down is incredibly difficult.
A2K
Mon, Feb 1, 2010 : 9:52 a.m.
What a wonderful story, thank you for sharing *I cried through 2/3 of the whole piece*. Bless our wee furry companions, how fortunate we are able to share our lives with them.
UM Rocks
Mon, Feb 1, 2010 : 9:22 a.m.
What a wonderful story. We had to put two of our dogs down within 6 months of each other and I have never felt so much pain. We too don't have children and our dogs have always been "the boys." The wonderful staff at Ypsilanti Animal Clinic made a terrible experience a lot easier. They allowed us to bring our other pets so they could grieve too. In the bottom of my heart it made a world of difference after getting home. They weren't "looking and waiting." Again I am sorry for your loss. Most people do not understand the unconditional love and affection that our pets give us, and I found a lot of comfort in the following poem after our losses. From time to time, people tell me, "lighten up, it's just a dog," or "that's a lot of money for just a dog." They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent, or the costs involved for "just a dog." Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a dog." Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a dog," but I did not once feel slighted. Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a dog," and in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a dog" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day. If you, too, think it's "just a dog," then you will probably understand phases like "just a friend," "just a sunrise," or "just a promise." "Just a dog" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy. "Just a dog" brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better person. Because of "just a dog" I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future. So for me and folks like me, it's not "just a dog" but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past, and the pure joy of the moment. "Just a dog" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day. I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a dog" but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a human." So the next time you hear the phrase "just a dog." just smile, because they "just don't understand." ~ Author Unknown
gobluefnp
Mon, Feb 1, 2010 : 8:11 a.m.
Jen, I loved this. Last week we euthanized our 14 year old dog who was struggling with uncontrolled diabetes. Your story sums up the love that you had for your four legged family member. The bond your daughter shared will be remembered by her forever. My 23 year old son drove over an hour to get home in order to say good bye to "his dog".
Lisa
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 10:12 p.m.
Thank you for posting this. I'm at the point of having to make the same decision for my Siamese with chronic kidney failure--I expect to have to make the call sometime this week. I needed the reminder that it is a necessary and responsible part of having a pet.
braggslaw
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 10:05 p.m.
Your story brought a tear to my eye. I recently went through the same experience. The sorrow softens with time and the good memories are always with you.
Scott Beal
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 9:04 p.m.
The questions children ask about a pet's death are so astonishing.
spm
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 6:42 p.m.
I'm sorry for your loss. Having no children but pets, we've been through it more often then I'd like to remember. Last January we had to put our 16 year old dog to sleep. It was a very tough decision, but we decided that day to let it also be a happy day too. After we put our beautiful Surrey to sleep and took her to be cremated, we went to the Huron Valley Humane Society and picked out a new pet. Roxie came home with us that same day. Over the next few weeks we took Roxie out to Surrey's favorite parks and scattered her ashes. It was a nice way of saying Hello and Goodbye.
toofache32
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 6:28 p.m.
Great story. Go to youtube and search for "Jimmy Stewart dog poem" and he reads a similar story.
a2flow
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 6:13 p.m.
As I read your story, I was thinking back to my own dog and how difficult putting her down was. It was my only option because the cancer was so bad, but it still didn't make it any easier. When you love anything that much, separating is extremely difficult. Those of us who have gone through the experience know how difficult euthanisia is. I too felt like an executioner, sobbing as I held her while the vet injected her. Till this day, I still feel have a sense of loss over what had to be done. I miss the car rides, running in all kinds of weather, and just her general presence. I am sorry you had to go through what some of us have already done. Take care.
susan
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 4:24 p.m.
A sad story indeed. One most of us can share (but don't always want to relive). It makes one wonder though, if pesticides are the culprit of why so many of us loose our pets early. Our boxer only lived until age 9 because of cancer. We had a cocker spaniel that also had to be put down at 8 1/2 for the same reasons. My childhood black lab lived until age 16. No one used lawn pesticides back then!!!!
Larry Eiler
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 3:23 p.m.
Very nicely handled and explained, Jenn. A thoughtful and caring article. Larry Eiler
Patricia
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 2:49 p.m.
Having had this same situation with two cats in recent years, I know how hard it is, but you did what was best for Bear in spite of your own pain. For other cat lovers, Cat Heaven by Cynthia Rylant is very comforting. Wishing you peace.
a2guy1974
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 2:11 p.m.
what a touching article, thank you for sharing. i grew up with at least one dog in the house at all times, and i have witnessed many times this exact situation. i have vivid childhood memories of my father, afterward on one such sad occasion, sitting in the vet clinic lobby, head in his hands, weeping openly and loudly as if he had just lost a child. it can be a terribly sad event to have to put a pet down, but it also sounds like you have come (or are coming) to terms with the utter compassion in doing so. i've realized that a seemingly trifle, yet possibly most-significant part of pet ownership is doing the right thing for our pets at the end of their lives. when i was a child, my parents used these opportunities to speak to me and my siblings about live, death, and compassion. now, as an adult, those lessons have stuck with me, and manifest themselves in my relationship with my own dog. continued healing to you, jen.
alnan
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 1:20 p.m.
I too am sorry for your loss. I did the same thing with my Daisha a German Sheperd that we had for 13 years. She came to us in the dark of night as we were unloading the car after a party. No tags and wearing a choker chain and short leash which I thought was a training leash. Vet thought her to be about a year old. 2009 was not a good year for us. It all started with our daughter being laid off from her job of 20 years. Following that three different family member's wonderful dogs such as Bear had to be put down. Add to that two family members joined the dogs in Heaven one in June and the other in September. I share your grief and will certainly get a copy of "The Art of Racing in the Rain" for all of us. Thanks for sharing your story.
Melody Groh
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 12:33 p.m.
Beautifully written and a worthy tribute to a family member who will always be cherished in your hearts. Sharing this heart wrenching story reminds us all how very much our pets contribute to our lives. Thanks for sharing, Jen.
Melody Groh
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 12:30 p.m.
You have certainly captured the anxiety and emotions of a loving pet owner when faced with this difficult decision. I know Bear will always live on in your hearts. You have done well by her and sharing her story reminds us all how much pets contribute to our lives. Thanks Jen.
treetowncartel
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 11:28 a.m.
My condolences as well. We just went through this last September, and having done it before it is without doubt a very tough day. We were lucky to get 14+ years out of him. The dog never looked, or acted for that matter, his age until the last six months.This dog got into anything and everything in the house and was on a life long journey for food. The day before we took him in he just went out back and laid in the grass for a few hours. It is a funny thing, you kind of just know when the day arrives. I stayed home the next and dug the final resting spot in our yard full of clay while my wife and her dad ventured to the vet. Putiing the clay back in the whole was much more draining then removing it. We had a little going home celebration with friends and family the following weekend. Brining him home to bury really helped put some closure on it with my kids and gave them a good learning opportunity. Just yesterday my youngest daughter, three and a half, told someone that he was in in the garden, that put a smile on my face and a tear in my eye. Thanks for sharing your story.
KeepingItReal
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 10:19 a.m.
Thanks for sharing this wonderful story. When it came time for our family to put our pet Lab/Golden down, it was a very hard decision to make but we had to do it. The most heart wrenching moment came when my daughter and I had to carry him to the car because he could not walk but yet when we got him to the Vets and they loaded him onto the cart to take him away, he actually raised up and looked at me as though to let me know that everything was ok. That was the moment for both my daughter and I.
benc
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 10:04 a.m.
I send my heartfelt condolences as well. We had to have our lab put down last March. We have a great vet who came to our home as Clare never liked the vet's office. She left us very peacefully. This is not the first time I've had to do this and there's no getting around how hard it is, but I've always felt very fortunate that we humans are able to do this for our pets. Sometimes the hardest things to do are the best things we can do. Several months before it was necessary, I asked our vet how will we know when it's time. His response gave us strength. He said, "You're reasonable people. You'll know when it's time." We did. I highly recommend "The Art of Racing in the Rain" too. Hard to get through at times but entirely worth it.
goodthoughts
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 9:54 a.m.
I too cried, and felt touched by your story. My heart goes out to you and your family. Thank you.
bs
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 9:40 a.m.
I'm certain this was very difficult to write. Thanks for sharing this story. I'm guessing my Husky will get a lot of extra attention today!
Annie Thompson-Bert
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 9:32 a.m.
Our 15 year old Lab just keeps hanging in there, but I know that this is a decision we will have to make sooner or later. I have made arrangements with the vet to come to OUR house so that our old Sadie girl, who is arthritic and out of breath can just sort of sleep away in her bed. Loving animals teaches us something about ourselves and so does letting them go....Bear will always be with you!
Ann Arbor mom
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 8:50 a.m.
My heart goes out to your family. Our ailing lab (almost 14) is a special part of our family and I dread the day when her quality of life declines to the point where we have to put her down. We will miss her tremendously, just as you miss sweet old Bear.
mwest22
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 8:04 a.m.
A beautifully written story. I'm glad you shared it. He will be missed.
Newbster
Sun, Jan 31, 2010 : 7:23 a.m.
Please accept my condolences on your loss of Bear. Your story, as do all stories of beloved pets final days/hours always bring me to tears. I just wanted to suggest a FABULOUS book for you to read. It may sound hokey but trust me, it's not (read the reviews on Amazon)... it's narrated by the family dog who in his last days of life. It may sound like a real downer but it's not. Once you read "The Art o Racing in the Rain" by Garth Stein you'll be more at peace with your decision to help Bear the way you did. It's a terrific story, one that for me, helped TREMENDOUSLY when we had to make the decision to put Hanna, our nearly 15 year old Lab down last March. PLEASE read this book, you'll feel so much better and if you're like me, will love it SO much that you'll buy several copies to pass on to friends. Again, my condolences, you're mourning the loss of a wonderful friend.