The Dog part of Something the Dog Said died yesterday. Tycho was a ten year old three legged Springer Spaniel and my very good friend. He had vascular cancer (cancer of the blood vessels) and it was moving into his lungs and stomach. There was nothing that could be done to extend his life, so Liz and I fulfilled our part of the bargain and put an end to his pain and suffering.
While I have zero doubt that there will be a lot of condolences from this post, that is not the purpose for it. I have had a lot of pets in my life, but this is the first time that I had to take responsibility for ending the life of one. I knew pets died, but I had not been there when they did so. I was very concerned what it would be like. I am writing this post so folks who have never been through it will have a yard stick.
There is a bargain struck, they will give you love and companionship and you will make all the hard calls. It is a good bargain and people make it daily all over the world. You make the choices about having them spayed or neutered; you make the call on how much and what kinds of food they eat and if they can be on the couch or not. You also have to make the call on when enough is enough and prevent your friend from suffering needlessly. This was a choice that I was dreading. I had no idea what it would be like, but for Tycho’s sake I was going to do it right.
Tycho had three legs because when he was a year and a half he was hit by a car (he slipped his leash and ran into a busy street). In addition to losing his left front leg to gangrene, his right front leg was broken in three places. This meant that he had to have 6 surgeries in 8 months. Eventually he was fine but he developed a real fear of any vets office. He would shake and plead to leave with his eyes whenever we would take him. He would growl at any male vet (as the ones that did most of the work that saved his life were men) and had to wear a muzzle because he might snap at them.
There was no way in hell I was going to have this be the atmosphere that he spent his last minutes of life in. I had been dreading what it would mean for years. Luckily my sister had to put her beloved Boxer to sleep last year (obviously not lucky for Libby or Lucy). Her vet was willing to come to their house. This sounded like a perfect solution to me and we found a service here Colorado which would do that for us.
So, one problem down, but there was still the issue of him actually dying. Would it be horrible? Would he struggle? Would he be scared by the vet or the way the drugs made him feel? These things were eating me up as I prepared to take responsibility for ending his suffering. What actually happened was a good as a situation as could be expected from something so inherently awful.
Doctor Christine Daigler of Peaceful Passage came to our house. We all went to Tycho’s favorite place in the world, his back yard and sat on a blanket the Doc brought. Tycho being the dog he was did not really like the Doc being in his yard but when she broke out the bag of high fat treats he was willing to settle down.
We hung out just talking, Doc Christine has a great calm manner and voice. Eventually Tycho relaxed (after a little growling and teeth bearing, I told you he did not like vets). Doc Christine talked us through the process. She would give him a pretty big dose of pain killers which would make him calm and sleepy. Then she would give him a general anesthetic which would put him in a deep sleep, then she would give him the drug which would stop his heart. We would take it in slow steps so he would not be made nervous or afraid by what the drugs were doing to him.
The first drug required that we put a muzzle on him. However Tycho was pretty used to it and as soon as the Doc had injected the pain killer we took it right off. He walked away form the vet and came and sat in our laps. After about 5 minutes or so he began to go to sleep. We were going to leave the muzzle off for the second shot, but he kept staring at the Doc and keeping himself awake. So it went on again for 30 seconds while he got the anesthetic shot. Then he lay down and went into a deep sleep.
I could see his breath blowing out the sides of his cheeks as he slept. He was out of pain and calm and relaxed. It was a good image to keep. The Doc shaved one of his back legs and then put in a IV shunt. Then she explained what we would see. The drug is fast acting. It would be less than 30 seconds from the time that she injected it until he was gone. She explained that his breath might become a little labored for a couple of seconds, then it would be over.
We said our last good bye (Ha, as if you can say good by only one time to someone you love) and she injected the drug. True to what the Doc had said, he did breath a little deeper a couple of times then the fluttering of his cheek slowed and finally stopped. My dog was finally past this veil of tears and at pain no more.
The Doc gave us a couple of minutes with him. He lay there in his yard just like he was sleeping, no pain, no struggle, just the peace of the grave. She came back and did something I would have never thought of, she made a paw print of his front paw for us. You can see a picture of it below.
Then she very carefully wrapped him up in the blanket. She took care to leave his head out and visible, just like any dog would want if they would stand being wrapped in a blanket. I helped her load him into a carrier and we carried him to her van. In the back of the van the Doc had kind of a couch set up. There were big pillows all around and a little pillow for his head. We put him in the couch and put his head on the pillow, just the way he would sleep in his kennel at home. Doc Christine then covered him up to his neck with another blanket.
It is really dumb I know. I know that at this point it was just a body, no personality there, but it was incredibly comforting to see that. It was another image to focus on and keep. Tycho’s body would be cremated, but I would have this last look at my dog in comfort and peace. Thanks Doc Christine.
All the rest is sad. We took down his kennel, gave his dog food to a neighbor with dogs, donated his left over medicines to a shelter and went to a movie to get out of the house. People say that putting their pet to sleep is one of the hardest things of their lives. I think that we all traumatize ourselves too much in this. If you can do it in a setting that is calm for them, if you can keep from waiting too long and if you look at it for what it is, not killing them but delivering them from suffering this can be the last good thing you will do for a good friend. It is nowhere near as bad as you might expect.
Good-bye Puppy, I loved you and will miss you, always. I did the best I could for you, it is all we ever can do.
The floor is yours.