Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Knowing When to Let Go

One of the most difficult parts of owning a pet is knowing when to let go when their health is failing. It's a process that involves fighting the urge to hold onto something you love as long as possible, but realizing that you may be putting your feelings above the best interests of the pet you love.

I am currently deciding whether to have my beautiful Great Pyrenees, Chelsea, put to sleep. She's 14 years old, pants quite a bit, and paces constantly unless I force her to lay down and rub her belly until she falls asleep. She wakes up at least twice a night and starts pacing. I usually have to let her out on the deck to cool down and hope that she wets or poops if she needs to do that.

She woke up twice last night (February 12, 2013) and began pacing. I let her out on the deck to cool down (she was panting heavily and seemed agitated). I let her back in and got her to lay back down and to fall asleep again by rubbing her belly and stroking her muzzle. This happened twice last night--once at 2 a.m. and then at 6 a.m. Evidently I missed the first minute or so of one of the times she was up and moving around, because the next morning I found that she had thrown up in the living room and peed in the dining room.

It takes a lot for me to give up on an animal. I've had 4 dogs and 3 cats that I've had to come to terms with their deaths. Each one lived a long, full life (average age was 14 to 18 years--though two of the three Shar Peis had much shorter life spans due to genetic inbreeding--Teddy died when he was 8, Mona died when she was just over a year old. My last Shar Pei, Millie, evidently had a better gene pool, because she lived 13 years. I had to put my Chinese Crested, Connor, to sleep this past Christmas Eve. It made it the worst Christmas that I have ever had in my life.

I've decided I need to make an appointment to take Chelsea in. She is alert and drinking and eating, though not as much as she has in the past, she seems uncomfortable, agitated, disoriented at times, and has major problems with her hips (she stumbles quite a bit and has fallen down several times lately). In my heart, I'm hoping the vet decides to give her something to help her sleep through the night and that I can hold onto her forever. In my head I know that she is nearing her end of time here and needs to move on. She will be out of pain and, I hope, in a better place. That doesn't make it any easier to let go of someone you love (my pets are my family, my friends, and provide unconditional love that is often hard to find in a human being). I just hope the ache I have in my heart will ease with time.

You never forget your friends, furry or otherwise, who have impacted your life in positive ways. They all reside in a corner of your heart you reserve for loves lost.