One of the blogs I read referred yesterday to an article with which that author and I disagree. He maintains that no expense is too great and alleges that those who put animals to sleep don't understand the care and concern of an animal. This will be one of a series of articles I propose to write on the topic of pets and people. Jonathan says he'd spare no expense to save his dog. Until I put an animal down, I felt the same way.
When I got married, I inherited my first ever pet, despite having sworn that I would never own a dog (I may talk about the many times I've been attacked and seen others attacked later). At first I was just unsure, but then I eventually learned quite a bit about myself from raising and breeding Beagles, an education I consider valuable in preparation for having children, but I digress.
My baptism by fire in care of dogs came when just shy of his first year Tutankhamen came down lethargic, then sick, and warranted a trip to the vet. As I lived 30 miles from town, this was a planned event. Tut had been born with a bad liver as his enzyme titers indicated, necessitating a transplant for $2000, assuming one could be found. I asked the doctor about it and when he said it "might" solve the problem, I wasn't sure. I liked Tut very much, but as a starving college student and newlywed, I didn't have that kind of money. The ordeal started at 7AM, and ended for me around 3PM when I bade him farewell and left him to be put to sleep.
Pepsi developed breast cancer after my sister in law refused to take her in after an infection. Eventually, she paid for tumor removal, but the tumors returned within a few weeks, and she decided to just let Pepsi die. Being still in the same financial circumstances, I did what I could for Pepsi, going out to visit her in the evenings and stroking her while she lay next to me huffing in pain. She got to the point where she would meet me at the gate despite the pain of motion and whimper when I left. ONe day I came home and Pepsi was gone. She had died sitting near the gate waiting for me to come home.
When April had problems during pregnancy, we took her to the midnight emergency for a C-section. She survived, but all but two of her puppies died, and because it was emergency, it cost a great deal to keep her alive, but that time I paid the bill.
By contrast, two of my beagles Aragorn and Lady were torn apart by the neighbor's akitas, which he refused to lock up. There was nothing I could do to help either of them.
Part of me died every time one of my dogs died. I could never have euthanized one of them myself, but based on those experiences, I do not think that the extemporaneous prolonging of life would have been best for them. Both Tut and Pepsi suffered terribly, and whatever money I might have spent had I had it offered only a pittance chance of altering their situation for the good. Medicine is not just about prolonging life but about improving the quality of life, so if all they can do is pain manage or offer risky surgery with miniscule chances of survival that promise extra pain, I'm disinclined to follow that line of suggestion.
Some people may call me callous for electing to put an end to pain, but if all they know by extended life is more pain I do not think we're doing them a favor. Sometimes if you love something, you have to let it go.
Just fifty years ago, the medical knowledge remained unknown to us about how to cure myriad of maladies. It was not thought then cruel to leave people to die. We are more humane now than we ever were before, and so many animals survive who wouldn't otherwise due to better care and vaccinations, but just because animals are alive doesn't mean they're being treated well. I have rescued several beagles, including aforementioned April, who were infinitely better off with me despite their troubles.
I love my dogs. They are part of my family. I will give them the best quality of life I can, but when it's their time to go, I will rejoice that I knew them and look forward to a reunion in the next world. After all, all dogs go to heaven. See you there Arrow.
When I got married, I inherited my first ever pet, despite having sworn that I would never own a dog (I may talk about the many times I've been attacked and seen others attacked later). At first I was just unsure, but then I eventually learned quite a bit about myself from raising and breeding Beagles, an education I consider valuable in preparation for having children, but I digress.
My baptism by fire in care of dogs came when just shy of his first year Tutankhamen came down lethargic, then sick, and warranted a trip to the vet. As I lived 30 miles from town, this was a planned event. Tut had been born with a bad liver as his enzyme titers indicated, necessitating a transplant for $2000, assuming one could be found. I asked the doctor about it and when he said it "might" solve the problem, I wasn't sure. I liked Tut very much, but as a starving college student and newlywed, I didn't have that kind of money. The ordeal started at 7AM, and ended for me around 3PM when I bade him farewell and left him to be put to sleep.
Pepsi developed breast cancer after my sister in law refused to take her in after an infection. Eventually, she paid for tumor removal, but the tumors returned within a few weeks, and she decided to just let Pepsi die. Being still in the same financial circumstances, I did what I could for Pepsi, going out to visit her in the evenings and stroking her while she lay next to me huffing in pain. She got to the point where she would meet me at the gate despite the pain of motion and whimper when I left. ONe day I came home and Pepsi was gone. She had died sitting near the gate waiting for me to come home.
When April had problems during pregnancy, we took her to the midnight emergency for a C-section. She survived, but all but two of her puppies died, and because it was emergency, it cost a great deal to keep her alive, but that time I paid the bill.
By contrast, two of my beagles Aragorn and Lady were torn apart by the neighbor's akitas, which he refused to lock up. There was nothing I could do to help either of them.
Part of me died every time one of my dogs died. I could never have euthanized one of them myself, but based on those experiences, I do not think that the extemporaneous prolonging of life would have been best for them. Both Tut and Pepsi suffered terribly, and whatever money I might have spent had I had it offered only a pittance chance of altering their situation for the good. Medicine is not just about prolonging life but about improving the quality of life, so if all they can do is pain manage or offer risky surgery with miniscule chances of survival that promise extra pain, I'm disinclined to follow that line of suggestion.
Some people may call me callous for electing to put an end to pain, but if all they know by extended life is more pain I do not think we're doing them a favor. Sometimes if you love something, you have to let it go.
Just fifty years ago, the medical knowledge remained unknown to us about how to cure myriad of maladies. It was not thought then cruel to leave people to die. We are more humane now than we ever were before, and so many animals survive who wouldn't otherwise due to better care and vaccinations, but just because animals are alive doesn't mean they're being treated well. I have rescued several beagles, including aforementioned April, who were infinitely better off with me despite their troubles.
I love my dogs. They are part of my family. I will give them the best quality of life I can, but when it's their time to go, I will rejoice that I knew them and look forward to a reunion in the next world. After all, all dogs go to heaven. See you there Arrow.
This image is proprietary
No comments:
Post a Comment