How do you know when it’s time to say goodbye to an aging pet? To some, the answer may seem obvious, and in some cases, it is. Human beings are seldom euthanized, at least not in the fashion that animals are. But the decision to part with a loving, faithful pet is almost always a difficult one. For many people, there is little if any distinction between a family member and a pet. Oftentimes, the pet is the only “family” in someone’s life.
Blaze was always an active dog, and her navigation of the natural obstacles in our back yard while running at full speed was legendary. She was fast and agile. As an Aussie mix, she had an innate ability to herd. Nothing thrilled her more than our daily walks, retrieving a toy, or simply running in the yard. She was extremely intelligent, and could learn new tricks (via voice command or hand signals) at any age. She loved meeting other dogs and people, and she got along quite well with our cat. She was quite a dog.
When she was around twelve years old, she lost her hearing. She never went completely deaf, but only a loud noise or whistle could get her attention. This didn’t really faze her, but she did lose her ability to sneak a nap on the couch and deftly get down when she heard someone coming. The loss of hearing didn’t seem to impact her balance, as she could still move and weave with the best of them.
During her thirteenth year, her health slowly deteriorated. One day, she started falling over uncontrollably. It was sad to see and very difficult to watch, and I was afraid that the end was near. We immediately took her to the vet, who diagnosed something called Vestibular Syndrome. He prescribed medication, and said that it was very common for older dogs and would go away quickly. I was skeptical, but within a couple of days, Blaze was back to normal. However, her new “normal” involved much more rest throughout the day. She often wouldn’t bother finding a comfy cushion or carpeted area, but rather would simply lay in a flat position on the hardwood floor, as shown in the photo above. Getting back upright was now a bit of a chore, but she still enjoyed daily walks and would come when beckoned.
Soon thereafter, Blaze started limping slightly. It wasn’t a constant limp, but we knew that her right rear leg had an issue. The vet took an x-ray, and he discovered that one of Blaze’s toes was deteriorating due to cancer. He also determined that Blaze was fighting the onset of kidney disease. With the proper medication and diet, the vet assured us that the kidney problem would not yet cause her pain, but he did warn that older dogs did not fare well with kidney issues. We struggled with our decision as to how to proceed. Blaze was already at an advanced age for an Australian Shepherd / Welsh Springer Spaniel mix, and we didn’t want to prolong her pain for our benefit. Additional x-rays assured us that the cancer hadn’t spread, so we decided to have her “problem toe” amputated.
Post-surgery medication and rest soon had Blaze running around like her old self. She seemed very happy, and life was good. Within a couple of months, we noticed that a tumor was growing on the “problem leg.” The tumor grew very rapidly, and Blaze soon developed an occasional limp. I told myself that dogs had a higher tolerance for pain than we did, but the vet informed me that a limping dog meant that she was in pain. A dog’s nature will push her to act as normally as possible, simply to obey her family. The vet recommended medicating Blaze until her time came. This would allow her to enjoy the things that made her happy, including long walks, for as long as possible.
Blaze’s last day was July 1st, nine days short of her fourteenth birthday. Her slight limp had suddenly progressed into a debilitating hobble. Our family quickly made the joint decision that we couldn’t let our little girl suffer any longer. It was time.