My Ranger was getting feeble and in pain from arthritis but he still enjoyed what life he could. He would still roll in the grass and try to chase squirrels and limp over to see neighbors with his tail wagging furiously to say hello. I knew the end was near but figured he would tell me when it was time for him to go.
One Wednesday night he told me. He could barely stand to eat his dinner and then barfed it all up. The next day I called the vet from work to make an appointment for the coming Saturday for 3:30. I planned to spend all day with him and then take him for his final car ride.
When I got home that very afternoon, Thursday, he was out in his kennel silent and still. I went to pet him and could feel his chest was still warm. His eyelids fluttered one last time and then he was gone. I think he had waited for me to get home before leaving and spared me the grief of choosing when his time would be.
I know that sounds all anthropomorphic and many will just say it was an accident of timing, but incidents like this serve to intensify my belief in a benevolent higher power.
FWIW, that was over two years ago and I'm crying like a baby as I write this.
Gunnery, gunnery, gunnery. Hit the target, all else is twaddle!
My Remmie girl has lived a very active 7 1/2 years and is starting to show the aches and pains to prove it. I don't know how her ending will come, but the screen gets a bit blurry just thinking about it. To make matters worse, we got Remmie just a few months before our twins were born, so I'll be dealing not just with my own grief at losing my good girl, but also the grief of my children losing a life long companion.
Get back to me when you have to put down your wife's horse she has had for 20 years.
I have a soft spot for the dogs we have but i will not let them suffer because i just don't feel i could live with myself.
Sometimes choices have to be made all are not happy ones,they hurt but it is a fact of life.
When i had to put down Boomer it was with a tear in my eye,i still think of him from time to time,as long as one remembers them they are not really gone.
How many do it yourself .22 behind the ear or let the vet do it I have always looked at it like I put them out of their misery not someone else also semes more humain at home than driving them to a strange place to do it still is very sad though
Really? How do you know the Dog doesn't feel a lot of pain in the last few seconds of his life? What happens if you botch it? I will pay someone that knows what they are doing to end their life without pain and except for one dog I have been there for Dogs and Cat's that were involved.
I am getting ready to face this situation again in a few months. I have rolled it through my mind and definetly don't want to take her to vet because she hates going there and doesn,t especially like him. I haven,t asked anyone yet but curious whether the materials could be sold to me with instructions on how to do it and then when I feel like it is time I can do it without her having to see him or the vets office? I don't want her to be scared and would really just have me and the woman and the dog there when it needs to be done. Really Really don't want to shoot her either. Thanks Craig
I could not do it myself unless it was an emergency and there was no alternative to relieve the suffering.
As others have said, sometimes an old dog goes down hill fast. With my Sam, I came one from work to find he had some sort of stroke and was staggering about like a punch drunk boxer.
I rushed him immediately to the vet, more in the vain hope that Sam could be saved, but knowing in my heart of hearts it was unlikely..
The vet confirmed this and took us both through to a quite side room and left us to say our final farewells while she made ready the injections..The first was a sedative and the second was supposed to be the lethal injection.. However, Sam had other ideas and let go just as the first injection was administered. I felt him go as I held him, no fuss, panic or stress.
That night I buried him in the garden, curled up on his favourite blanket, along with one or two his toys.. For him and me, that was the right way although it was still damn hard and I freely admit I cried like baby after it was over..
It�s March 2010 and we just had our third snow storm in Oklahoma. My Brittany Spaniel Lucy has just recovered from an illness and is once again eating well and regaining the weight she had lost. Her illness reminded me of her mother Sue and I wanted to tell you that story.
Back in 1993, we had just moved to Pensacola Florida for three years of shore duty. I was in the Navy and nearing the end of my career. I did not anticipate many more deployments and one of my goals had been to buy another Brittany spaniel pup and try to do some quail hunting before I had to go back to my last sea duty.
My wife was not crazy about the idea, but finally succumbed to my relentless pressure . . . �please, pretty please?�
We found �Sue� in a shopping mall pet store. Sue was the name of the last Brittany pup we had owned many years prior, while I was a student at Oklahoma State University back in the late 1970�s. This new young orange and white pup was three months old and had been for sale for several weeks. The store was asking $350 which had been discounted from a previous $450. I had never paid anywhere near that amount for a dog. I felt it was way over my anticipated budget, but she was so beautiful. The sales lady put her in a romp room with me and mom and the three kids. She seemed to be real frisky and playful - just full of energy.
After close consultation with the queen of the house, we reached a compromise and told the sales lady that we would be willing to pay $250 for the pup, and to call us if they couldn�t sell her.
I had given up hope I would ever see that pup again when just three days later we received a call from the pet shop and they asked us if we were still interested in buying the Brittany pup. I assured them I was, and confirmed they were willing to sell her for $250. They agreed, and within a few hours we were on the way home with our new pup. I really hadn�t thought through how to transport her because we only had a small Japanese 4-door sedan which was full with three kids, me and the Mrs.
I decided to put Sue in the trunk of the car which she did not seem to think was such a good idea. She was shaking as I lowered her into the trunk and shut the lid for the short ride home. When we arrived, I opened the trunk and there was Sue. She had vomited all over the inside of my trunk!
We did not have a kennel or fenced in yard, so we decided to keep Sue in the screened-in back porch �Florida room.� For a dog house I decided to use the tall card board box from the new washer I had just purchased. That night we put blankets in the bottom of the box, and put Sue inside so she could go to bed. She just looked up at us. As we turned to go inside the house for the night I heard a scuffle and turned to see her jump right out of that box like a deer. This was one athletic pup, for sure.
We ended up tying her out in the shady back yard on a 10x10 cement slab during the day, while allowing her to sleep in the house at night. My wife had been against the �sleep inside� part from the beginning, but once again I persevered - �pretty please, with sugar on top?�
We had some memorable hunts with Sue and the boys in the Florida panhandle and she quickly became a close member of the family.
I remember one year we were getting ready to go on a vacation to Spain. We were going to drive from Florida to Virginia to catch a Space-A flight to Rota, Spain, my wife�s home town. We did not want to board Sue in a kennel and had made a deal with our next door neighbor to feed and water her while we were gone. We had a chain link fenced-in area behind our detached carport and shed, so we decided to keep Sue in the fenced-in area and I installed a small doggy door in the door to the shed so she could get out of inclement weather. Everything was set, a perfect set up for Sue, or so I thought.
As the day arrived for our departure for Virginia, I had the car all packed and the kids were climbing into the back seat. I led Sue to the gate and put her inside the chain link enclosure for the first time. She just watched as I walked to the car and started backing down the driveway, on the way to Virginia. However, just as I got to the end of the driveway, my wife said �look!� Sue was climbing the fence and as I sat there, stunned, she climbed right over that chain link fence and came running toward the car. I spent the next two hours tying hog wire fence around the top of the chain link to keep her from climbing out.
Sue traveled with us to our final duty station in my hometown of Oklahoma City on Christmas Eve of 1996. We bought a home in South Oklahoma City with a big back yard, so she was able to run and play during the day and sleep in the house at night. I made sure to put out a lot of bird feeders so she could entertain herself during the day while we were at work. I took great pleasure in scooping the poop, feeding her and filling her bucket with fresh water each evening. It�s kind of interesting how a dog realizes who they depend on for their daily sustenance, and there is a special bond that develops between man and dog. I loved Sue and she knew it. She seemed to understand everything I said to her. Not necessarily the English language, of course, but she could tell from the tone of my voice what it was I was saying. At night, wherever I was in the house, Sue would follow me from room to room. When I went to bed, she would follow me to the bedroom and curl up in her own bed, which was right next to my side of the bed.
When Sue was about seven or eight I decided to breed her. She was getting up in years, and I felt I would like to have another pup to take her place, once she moved on to doggy heaven. A client of mine had a beautiful male Brittany, and offered him up at stud. I accepted and Sue had her first litter.
I was anxiously attending to Sue as she birthed her first litter. The first puppy was still born, but she had eight healthy puppies thereafter, three males and five females. She was a very good mother.
The pick of the litter turned out to be a proud handsome male who strutted around with his chest puffed out like King Kong, so that is what we named him. He and one other male were the largest two of the entire litter. The other large bodied male had a large head and muzzle like a potato, so we called him Spud. Another smaller male just loved playing in the water bucket, wash tub, or anywhere else he could find water. We ended up calling him Water Boy. The five females were naturally the smallest of the litter. While all of the females constantly cowered at the presence of the three males, one female bowed up and fought back when they tried to pick on her. We decided to name her Lucy, and she became my favorite from the beginning.
Once the pups were weaned and had their shots, I put an ad in the paper and began to sell them. I decided to keep Lucy as my planned replacement for her mother, but I also wanted to keep one of the males. My wife would hear nothing of it. We already had too many dogs with Sue and Lucy, and there was absolutely no way we were going to have three dogs. Well, I just kept at it - you know the routine - until she relented. I wanted to keep King Kong since he was a magnificent pup. He had championship looking lines about him. However, old Spud was just so cute and friendly. While King Kong was somewhat aloof, Spud always came running to me and rolled over so I could scratch his belly. He had a thicker and curlier coat than King Kong. I fell for his big brown eyes, wide smile and eager to please disposition. The other pups sold real fast, so there we were with momma Sue and two pups.
After about six months I went out to feed the dogs and found Spud, �hooked up� with his momma. Good grief, I had no idea that a six-month old male would be able to mate. Well Sue ended up having another litter. We did not feel like going through the whole process again. It takes a lot of work. A friend of the family volunteered to take in Sue and raise the new litter. A few months later, Sue was back at home. I immediately took her and Lucy to the vet and had them �fixed.�
Over the years, Sue began to slow down quite a bit. She developed arthritis in the past year and lost her hearing as well. Gosh, was she 13 years old, going on 14 already. While her two offspring chased birds around the back yard, Sue could be found curled up in a sunny part of the yard sound asleep. I would yell at her to come in the house, but of course she couldn�t hear me. I had to walk out and gently stroke her back to wake her up. She always jumped when I touched her, momentarily startled from her slumber. At night, when she was asleep in her bed, I would look at her and she would be twitching and jumping slightly. I liked to think she was dreaming of her youthful experiences chasing a pheasant, or surprising a rabbit as she busted through the thickets in search of a covey of quail.
Last summer, while I was on the road working, my wife called to say that Sue had become real sick and lethargic. She had developed a large cyst on her left upper lip. My wife took her to our veterinarian in south Oklahoma City, an Oklahoma State University vet by the name of Dr. Keith Rammage. He recommended surgery. The biopsy came back malignant. Sue seemed to regain some of her health and by the time I arrived home at Thanksgiving, she was fully recovered. But her health soon began to fail again over the winter.
Over the past few weeks, Sue had begun to really labor to get up out of her bed in the morning. She seemed to have a bad cough in the morning. Her appetite had fallen off, and she quit eating three days ago. The night before last, she soiled the carpet. She always would bark at me at night to wake me up and let her out. For some reason, she didn�t bark any more. I was beginning to realize she was very ill. Last night, she could not lie down on the floor. She had to sit up to breathe. She sounded like she had a lot of fluid in her lungs. I put some pillows in her bed and picked her up and set her down so that her head was higher than her tail. This seemed to help her breathe, and she soon fell asleep. However, in the middle of the night I heard her get up. She didn�t bark, but I got up anyway and let her outside. I watched her out the window. She peed, and then seemed to just stand there with a thousand yard stare, unmoving. I went out into the cold night and got her attention and she came back into the house. Once again, she was hardly able to walk, and wanted to just stand still and pant. I picked her up and gently carried her to the bedroom and placed her in her bed, propped up so she could breathe. I had a difficult time getting back to sleep, as I realized my good friend was close to death. This morning I helped her get out of her bed. She wheezed and coughed as she made her way to the back door to join her offspring in the dark back yard. I knew what needed to be done, but dreaded admitting it.
I called the vet at 8:30 this morning and explained the situation. I told them my fears and they said to bring her in. I left work early and went home to get her. She was sitting in the corner of the back porch, almost unresponsive and unable to move. I gently picked her up and put her in the back seat of my truck. I carried her inside the vet�s office in my arms. One of the ladies led me to an examination room and I laid Sue on a blanket on top of the table. She was very calm and did not seem nervous at all. She had been through this routine before, and she trusted me. I carefully removed her collar and tag and slipped it into my pocket. I began to weep when the doctor came into the room. She was struggling to breathe as he listened to her lungs with his stethoscope. He told me the cancer had spread to her lungs, which was very common. I knew there was only one humane thing to do, and that was to put her to sleep. The doctor agreed.
They asked me if I wanted to keep the remains and I said no, and ask them to take care of it. I signed a rabies certification paper, unable to read it through teary eyes. One of the assistants explained it said she had not bitten anyone in the last two weeks. Sue had never bitten anyone in her whole life! They ask me if I wanted to be present during the process and I said yes. Several years ago I had read an article in Outdoor Life about a man who had to put his Lab to sleep. He explained how he felt it was his responsibility to hold his dog to the very end and let her know how much he loved her and appreciated their years together. As I thought of that article, I held Sue in my arms and began to sob uncontrollably. Here was a 54 year old man crying like a baby. Sue did not panic. She knew she was safe with me. She knew I loved her. Could she detect my tears?
It only took a few seconds.
After the doctor injected her right fore leg with the pink serum, Sue simply relaxed and went limp in my arms. She didn�t close her eyes. She still had that thousand yard stare - perhaps looking toward the horizon as a covey of quail disappeared over the rise.
A Special Gift
You're giving me a special gift so sorrowfully endowed and through these last few cherished days your courage makes me proud.
But really love is knowing when your best friend is in pain and understanding earthly acts will only be in vain.
So looking deep into your eyes, beyond into your soul I see in you the magic that will once more make me whole
The strength that you possess is why, I look to you today, to do this thing that must be done, for it's the only way.
That strength is why I've followed you, and chose you as my friend, and why I've loved you all these years... my partner 'til the end.
Please understand just what this gift you're giving means to me it gives me back the strength I've lost and all my dignity.
You take a stand on my behalf for that is what friends do and know that what you do is right for I believe it too.
So one last time, I breathe your scent, and through your hand I feel, the courage that's within you to now grant me this appeal
You�ve cut the leash that holds me here dear friend and let me run once more a strong and steady dog my pain and struggle done
And don't despair my passing for I won't be far away forever here, within your heart and memory I'll stay.
I'll be there watching over you your ever faithful friend and in your memories I'll run a young dog once again
Rainbow Bridge
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals that had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together.
PROLOGUE
It�s now August 6, 2013. I just left the vet�s office. Dr. Rammage helped me through a familiar crisis I had faced with Lucy�s mother Sue, and her litter mate Spud. Lucy was 15 years old . . . that�s 105 in human age. She was a fighter to the end. Dementia, arthritis, deafness, respiratory disease, unable to control her bowels . . . it was time, past time really. After the doctor gave her the injection, she relaxed and went to sleep in my arms. I explained to him, through tears, how she had been a fighter her whole life. She was one of five females in a nine-puppy litter and she refused to cower to the other males, who learned soon enough not to pick a fight with her. In the end, she had refused to go on her own, and I knew she would probably suffer rather than give up willingly on her life, even though she had zero quality of life. Lucy will be our last dog. I just don�t think I could bear having to go through this painful, but necessary event again. Me and the wife are too old and too sentimental to put ourselves through it, even though those Brittany pups sure are cute!
"All that the South has ever desired was that the Union, as established by our forefathers, should be preserved, and that the government, as originally organized, should be administered in purity and truth." – Robert E. Lee
Out front; near a big mesquite, lies what I affectionately refer to as, "the bone yard". Many a family pet, from a few birds,fish the kids had, cats and more dogs than I care to recall, as well as my wifes favorite old mare, who was 32 years young when I had to put her down. I can remember taking a knee and having a chat with that old mare, she couldn't get up and was just out of gas. One of the hardest members of the family to put down, I still have the M19 and the piece of brass up on the gun shelf. Three of my best dogs lay right next to her, each one felt as though they took a piece of my soul when I pulled the trigger. I have not brought another dog into my life since my last "good one", which was almost five years ago. Maybe when Im old enough to wager the dog will out live me, I'll get one more........tough thread, makes me recall very fond memories.
I've had to put a couple dogs down and our Coby is not to far from that decision. I think Im in the minority here, but the thought of the last thing I do for my pet is putting one behind their ear is too much for me. When we put our Dobe down a couple years ago at the vet, it was smooth and peaceful...just the way I wanted it to be for him. I guess I dont have the balls to do it myself....and Im ok with that.
Kiss your girlfriend where it smells.......take her to Jersey!
My little beagle was shot in the head on two separate occasions by some jerk in our neighborhood. She managed to get home under her own power both times and survived both shots. One 22 LR slug she will always carry. Needless to say, she didn't care much for rifles and a rifle shot is absolutely the last way I would have wanted her to go. Heck, a 22LR didn't seem to be very effective on her anyway.
When a tumor finally became more than she could deal with and I realized that it was her time, I wanted it to be as easy and painless as possible. She always loved going to the vet. They always made a big fuss over her there and the Veterinarian was a neighbor and friend. So that is where we went. I have no regrets.
I had no intention of doing it myself, I had already talked to the vet, but she fell apart overnight. I wasn't going to watch her hurt like that until the office opened in the morning.
I wouldn't recommend it to anyone and I didn't look at that .22 again for two or three years afterwards.
We had the displeasure of having to put down one of our dogs this past weekend. I'm on the road working away from home and didn't really know this vet, though two of the dogs had been in for shots.
They really made it almost bearable. Did it in a nice quiet room with a couch and a rug, so I could be there and pet her and scratch her ear.
I would say if the dog doesn't like the vet, find another one so they aren't already agitated going in. I think in general vets are getting better at acommodating people's emotions in this situation.
How many do it yourself .22 behind the ear or let the vet do it I have always looked at it like I put them out of their misery not someone else also semes more humain at home than driving them to a strange place to do it still is very sad though
Really? How do you know the Dog doesn't feel a lot of pain in the last few seconds of his life? What happens if you botch it? I will pay someone that knows what they are doing to end their life without pain and except for one dog I have been there for Dogs and Cat's that were involved.
I wouldent recomend shooting your dog unless you are familiar with the process. I have done 100's of canines on my traplines through the years and it is instant lights out, when you take out the brain stem
This Texas summer has been hard on my old cowdog.I hope he has another winter in him,but I've been trying to prepare myself for whats coming.I'll have the horse vet come out when the time comes to do the deed.They're buddies anyway so Dusty won't be upset to see him.
" It ain't dead.As long as there's one cowboy taking care of one cow,it ain't dead ! " Monte Walsh
StubbleDuck, your your life, your experiences.If you don't have the balls to do it your self, don't go making cheap shot calls about cheap-skates. Has not a [bleep] thing to do with economics. Just because your dad did a lousy job, and the vet scared your moms dog, doesn't make you an expert on other people lives or pets.
Didn't mean my post to be the way you took it Kalikook! But take it however phuuking stoopid and 'eggspurt' you are!
For those who would do what my pops did, it was the vet my dad went to, who RECOMMENDED my dad use that method. I would advise otherwise.
Sorry, didn't mean for it to come out that way. Too much emotions remembering the day. I [bleep] up.
It is never a good day, but, if it has to be done, I will do my own, thank you.
That, right there. Same with my cow pony. Except, for me, putting down a horse which packed my nappy ass in and out of the mountains too many times to count, and which packed home numerous deer, hurts much worse than any dog I have laid to rest.
But, in both cases, it is my duty.
People who choose to brew up their own storms bitch loudest about the rain.
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