Showing posts with label Death of a Pet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death of a Pet. Show all posts

Monday, January 9, 2012

END OF LIFE CONSIDERATIONS FOR YOUR PET, PT. 2


Helpful Buckeye hopes that all our readers made it into the New Year unscathed and ready for what the year has to offer.

The Association of Pet Dog Trainers would like all dog owners to be aware that the month of January is "National Train Your Dog Month"...you can find out more from them at: http://www.apdt.com/

OK, it's time to return to our presentation of End of Life Considerations, Pt. 1 of which ran the week before the holidays began.  There are several other aspects of those considerations that pet owners should be aware of and this issue of Questions On Dogs and Cats will finish those areas of discussion.  Helpful Buckeye received several e-mails with questions and/or comments, especially about Maxx's owners being able to conduct his euthanasia at home.  One of those, from a reader in Virginia, went this way:

"OK, you did it this time. I just read your 12/18 blog on end of life decisions for pets and the tears are streaming down my face. What a beautiful story about Maxx and his family. As you know, we are facing that decision for Megan and Duncan one of these days soon, and it's not an easy one....but a kindness we can show them after the many years of unconditional love they have shown us. Thank you for putting this into words."  Richmond, VA

Since the account of euthanasia at home seemed to touch so many chords with our readers, Helpful Buckeye offers this article as a further illustration of:

‘No other way I’d want to do it’

Many pets spend their final moments at their least-favorite place: a veterinary clinic.


After they are euthanized, their grieving owners often must pass through waiting rooms full of clients with barking dogs — headed for home with only a leash.


Billie-Jo Altier couldn’t stand the thought of such a lonely, anxious end to her relationships with her 15-year-old German shepherd, Sheena, and 16-year-old mutt, Manatee, when the time came to put each of them down.  “I wanted them to have as peaceful an exit as possible,” said Altier, 39. “I wanted to be the face they saw and the voice they heard and the hands that were on them.”  So, instead of making the dreaded trip to the vet, Altier twice hired veterinarian Jennifer Taylor to visit her North Side home.


There, the veterinarian euthanized Sheena and Manatee in their beds as they were held by the owner who had loved them since puppyhood.  “I told them what a good dog they were and how special they were and that they were going to be OK,” said Altier, her voice breaking with emotion. “There’s no other way I’d want to do it.”


Like Taylor, other veterinarians in central Ohio and nationwide also administer euthanasia in the comfort of a pet’s home.  The online In Home Pet Euthanasia Directory, a paid listing available since 2009, contains almost 100 providers, including some who offer the service exclusively.  The prices vary, depending on the size of the animal and the distance traveled.


Although she finds euthanizing animals heartbreaking, Taylor readily attends those so old or so ill that just getting them on their feet is difficult — let alone out of the house and into the car.  And she feels honored when her staff receives a touching thank-you note — a gesture that follows a euthanasia more than any other procedure.


“It’s such a raw moment in people’s lives. Even if we haven’t met people before, it really gives you a chance to know them and see their hearts,” said Taylor, owner of the HouseCalls for Dogs & Cats mobile veterinary practice.  “It gives us an insight into the relationship between people and pets.”


Euthanasia services can represent a significant portion of the mobile business for veterinarians such as Taylor, who sometimes euthanizes as many as three animals in a day.  At-home euthanasia is the sole focus of Closure, a practice founded in 2009 by Columbus veterinarian Jill Hayes after she euthanized her parents’ beloved dog in their home.  Hayes realized that a sad day might be a little less traumatic if, instead of in a vet’s office, an animal were to die in a favorite spot in the yard or on the bed where it always slept.


Owners should discuss options with their veterinarian before deciding where to euthanize pets, said Gail Golab, director of animal welfare for the American Veterinary Medical Association.  She cautioned that, in the case of complications, a veterinarian might not have all the necessary tools and medications in a home that would be available in a clinic.  Still, she said, “In terms of the animal and the client, there are advantages to doing it at home.”


In the home setting, Taylor has seen owners form prayer circles before a pet is euthanized, with one even inviting friends for a party, at which people enjoyed a cake decorated with the dog’s likeness.


Although the actual euthanization usually takes only a few minutes, Hayes might spend more than an hour with the owners, hoping to make the visit meaningful. Clinical veterinarians, though compassionate, sometimes have to keep up with a tight schedule of appointments.


Westerville resident Anne Creek appreciated the time that Hayes spent last year with Rudy, a 5-year-old Bernese mountain dog who had cancer.  Rudy wagged his tail as Hayes petted him and discussed the procedure, which often involves administering a sedative before injecting the lethal dose of anesthesia. He passed away quietly, with Creek; her husband; and the dog’s sister, Evie, by his side.  “I know that if I were dying I would have wanted him with me,” said Creek, 57. “He left the world in peace.”  Hayes then took the dog’s body to her car, returning to the home a few weeks later to deliver Rudy’s ashes. Creek keeps the urn on her nightstand, near the spot where the dog slept.


Owners appreciate such personal service, said Karen Henry, who offers at-home euthanasia through Buckeye Mobile Veterinary Services.  “A lot of people treat the pet’s death as they would that of a family member,” she said. “You go through the same emotions.”


The death of a pet can trigger broader memories, too. Hayes often hears of owners connecting a pet’s life span to a period of their lives: a dog who grew up with the children, a cat who represented the last link to a deceased spouse.


Throughout the marriage of Cynthia and Joe Reinacher, their Shar-Pei mix was a constant. The Minerva Park couple adopted Jade when she was 4 — shortly after their wedding in 2001— and the dog quickly became family.  “Every memory of us includes her,” said Cynthia Reinacher, 32. “We loved going hiking with her, taking her for road trips, snuggling on the couch. She really was our whole world.”  Earlier this year, the couple filled Jade’s bed with her favorite toys and blankets before Hayes arrived. As the 12-year-old dog passed away, they told her how much happiness she had given to their lives — a moment of sorrow that Reinacher remembers positively.


“I can look back at it now, and I don’t get sad,” she said. “I just think, ‘I’m so glad we did that.”


Adapted from: http://www.dispatch.com/content/stories/life_and_entertainment/2011/12/06/no-other-way-id-want-to-do-it.html
 
After experiencing the loss of a pet (either through natural death, an accident, or by euthanasia), many pet owners have even more difficulty moving beyond the "sense of loss" feelings they have. 
 
Memorial services can help pet owners find closure



This is what Tonya Bunce remembers from the funeral, the details still clear though months have passed: a peaceful Roxy - front legs wrapped around a Teddy bear with ears frayed from chewing - surrounded by loved ones, friends and much of the staff from the veterinarian's office.  After the chaplain's comforting words, others shared their favorite memories of Roxy as they said goodbye to the little Yorkie cut down in her prime.


For Bunce, who had no idea just weeks earlier that such a service was possible, it was a fitting tribute to a dog who had so touched her life in the 3 1/2 years Roxy had lived before being hit by a car. On that Sunday afternoon in a quiet, candlelit room at Fairwinds Pet Memorial Services, Bunce felt closure for the first time.  "It was a blessing," Bunce said. "It was everything I needed."


A growing number of people are finding solace in services, ceremonies and memorials dedicated to recently deceased pets. Veterinarians once were asked to simply dispose of bodies, but owners now are spending hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars to send furry loved ones off with respect and dignity.  Although viewings and memorials are relatively few at this point, those in the "pet aftercare" business say more and more owners are opting for funeral services mirroring those conducted for loved ones.


Because who's to say pets aren't loved ones?


According to a 2008 survey by American Pet Products Association, which tracks the pet industry, 39 percent of dog owners planned to make some sort of burial arrangements for their pets upon death, up from 26 percent in 2004. In addition, 23 percent planned to buy memorial stones, and 15 percent would buy urns for their pets' ashes. Four percent said they would buy grief books to record memories of the pets.


None of this surprises Mara Goebel, who leads a pet-grief group at Hospice of the Valley.  For years, owners suffered the death of their pets in silence, because if they dared share the depth of their sadness with a friend, odds are the reply would have been, "So? Get another dog (or cat, or bird, etc.)." Now people are realizing it's OK to grieve the death of a pet and to seek a caring shoulder on which to cry.  "Animals can take a deep place in our hearts," said Goebel, the hospice's bereavement office manager. "They offer us unconditional love."  The bond between pet and human companion is particularly strong among parents whose children have moved out or in adults who never had children, Goebel said. Their pets become their children, and their deaths can be traumatic.  And the grieving is as deep, as real, as if they had lost a beloved human family member. The dozen or so who attend Goebel's weekly grief sessions seek those who feel as they do about a lost pet, so they feel safe expressing the kind of sadness others associate only with the loss of a person.


Closure in the clouds


On a cloudless morning earlier this year, Lee Jones stood on the tarmac of Scottsdale Airport, blowing kisses to a four-seat Cessna rushing down the runway. She waved as it lifted into the air, taking Jones' spirits skyward.  Twenty minutes later, her cellphone chimed with an incoming text. That was the agreed-upon signal from pilot Jackie Tatelbaum, now high above Four Peaks. She was about to release the ashes of Katrina, Jones' 19-year-old cat, who three months earlier had been diagnosed with cancer.  The arrival of the text also meant it was time to read aloud Jones' handwritten tribute to Katrina. As discussed in a pre-flight meeting, Tatelbaum would speak the words in the air as the memorial was read on the ground.


Katherine Heuerman, a friend of Jones' who owns Pet and Animal Lovers Service, a pet mortuary, unfolded Jones' emotional testimony and solemnly read it aloud. Jones looked toward Four Peaks, where her cat's ashes were being scattered among the winds.  "This is a wonderful way to say goodbye," a tearful Jones said. "Katrina always loved the cold, loved to lie in the sun on winter days. Now she'll have her wish forever."


For Tatelbaum, it was less about the flight and more about the emotional journey of Katrina's owner.  That's why the certified flight instructor started Angel Wings Funeral Flights. Since incorporating a year ago, Tatelbaum has scattered pet ashes dozens of times, typically releasing them at about 3,000 to 4,000 feet, where prevailing winds can scatter them as far as 6 miles across (and yes, it is FAA-approved as long as dispersal occurs over unpopulated areas).


She was inspired by the loss of her own pet, Bessie, a dog that accompanied Tatelbaum everywhere. She could think of no better way to honor a close family member than sprinkling ashes from above, creating memorials across vast landscapes.


And as more people hear about Tatelbaum's service, she expects busier times ahead. She thinks her service is just starting to take off, and she is starting to hear from people with older pets who are planning on animal funerals.  Each week, Tatelbaum says, she receives a number of calls from owners asking about the memorial flights, as well as flowers, catering and even limo services.  "We're beginning to touch on something," she said. "It's not a trend, it's far more than that."


Memorializing the bond


For proof of the lasting impact of pet memorials, look no further than Heuerman, who founded PALS in 1986. Over the years, she has seen thousands of pets, from ferrets and birds to horses, each as beloved as the next.  When her Irish setter, Duffy, died, Heuerman was inspired to find a more humane way to deal with the death of a pet. She founded PALS so owners could make the same sort of funeral arrangements as they could for any loved one.


Heuerman remembers how common it was for owners to leave deceased pets at the vet's, trying not to think about what would happen with the remains.  At PALS, clients can spend quiet time with their pet in a private viewing room and watch the cremation process from start to finish (though few choose the latter option). Grief counseling also can be arranged.


"People want to show love and affection to their pets even in death," Heuerman said. "Memorializing helps draw closure and helps the life cycle start all over."


Those bringing their pets to Fairwinds Pet Memorial Services in Phoenix can arrange everything from simple cremations to a $4,000 funeral complete with chaplain, flowers and limousine to and from the service (although no one has ordered that package, manager Mary Rauchwarter said).


Rauchwarter, a former nurse, will groom and prepare the body for viewing, placing it on a favorite blanket, perhaps, and posing it with a favorite toy. Thanks to a large cooler that can preserve bodies up to 10 days, no embalming is necessary before services and cremations.


Business has been steady through the recession, Rauchwarter said, as Fairwinds on average conducts 25 cremations monthly and perhaps three viewings (quiet time with the pet) and one funeral (with minister, family and friends).


For a funeral or viewing, Rauchwarter often places flowers and candles around the room, suggesting that family members bring photos to place on magnetic boards. She also will arrange a meeting with the chaplain so owners can share something about their pets that can be part of the eulogy.


It can be as simple or as elaborate as the client would like, Rauchwarter said.  "It's about how much you love your pet," she said. "I've had people borrow money from Mom or do this with credit cards. For some without family or friends, pets replace family. And you want to treat them well in death."


With 18-month-old twins and a loving husband, Tonya Bunce had plenty of love in her life when Roxy was killed. But that didn't make the loss any easier, particularly because the accident happened right in front of her.  Bunce's vet suggested Fairwinds, and soon she sat down with the chaplain to share details about her Yorkie.  Bunce assisted in Roxy's prefuneral grooming, combing the Yorkie's hair into a ponytail and affixing it with a pink ribbon. And after the service, Bunce stayed behind to say her final goodbyes, wheeling Roxy into the cooler when she was finished.


"It was the closure I needed," she said. "Roxy was a big part of my life. I still miss her."


Bunce now keeps Roxy close, in a box that includes her ashes, collar and favorite toys. The box is on her nightstand, the last thing she sees each night before turning out the lights.


Another question of proper etiquette concerning the death of a pet is discussed in this article:
 
Modern Etiquette: When "Bob's" dog dies, do you send flowers?

By Mary Mitchell


In the old days, I had been known to point at dogs in the street and sputter callously, "That is why zoos exist. Animals should be behind bars."


That was before ZsaZsa, our French bulldog, entered my life, albeit unbidden by this columnist.  When I told my cousin, Kate, that we were about to get a puppy, she effused, "The dog will make you a better person. You will love her."  Wiser words never were spoken. Indeed, that little pup taught me, among so many other things, how to play, how to be patient, and how to be in the moment.


In short order, little ZZ created a family from my husband and me, and shared all the happy and not-so-happy moments with equal spirit, love, and loyalty.  Humbled, I have a new, zealous appreciation for the role our pets play in our lives and how -- when we lose them -- we can be as devastated as if we had lost a child.


I've long preached how important condolences are, when someone loses a loved one. Clients often ask how best to do this, especially when they might not have known the deceased, who might have been a colleague's spouse, parent, child.


Sadly, much of the Western world is a death-denying culture. We typically are given three days to grieve the loss of a family member, and then we are supposed to return to our jobs, performing as effectively as ever.  The idea seems to be to suck it up and move right along, almost as if a life-altering event had never occurred.


Fortunately for our humanity, we slowly are becoming more aware of the toll losing a loved one takes, and necessarily more empathetic in our dealings with the bereaved.  And...it's time to appreciate how devastating the loss of a pet can be, and the effect that loss can have on our outlook, our emotions, our performance. We need to reach out to those around us, just as we would were the loss a human one.


BEST FRIEND


Reverend Betsy Salunek, a hospital chaplain and grief counselor, allows that "I was one of those people who laughed at people who lost animals and were desolate...until I had my own dog."


Now she realizes that "We go through the same stages of grief when we lose a pet, and humans often have the same unfinished business with pets as humans, feeling that 'I could have done more...I was not prepared to lose my best friend.'"


Jaycee Barrett, an investment executive turned dog trainer who recently lost her beagle, Henry, said she wondered what would fill the gaps in her life when Henry died.  "For many people, our relationship with animals helps define us, and, when co-workers recognize this importance, it creates a unique, respectful, and memorable connection."


Ariana Andrade, a physician at Johns Hopkins Medical Center, admits that losing her dog Bella made focusing at work tough.  "It was also very hard to come home at the end of the day and not find her there," she said. "I avoided coming home until I knew my husband was already home, because I just could not bear being there by myself without Bella."


Andrade cautioned the well-intentioned friend against suggesting a replacement as part of efforts to reach out.  "People often asked me when I was getting another dog. That made me feel worse and wonder whether, if a human being had died instead of a dog, they would have asked me 'when are you getting another son, or husband, or friend?'"


Barrett agrees with those sentiments, and adds that "When Henry died, personalized sentiments in handwritten letters, a plant to nurture in memory of the loss, a donation to a dog park, a shelter, or a particular pet illness gave me great comfort."


Ron Hunter, yet another Wall Street executive turned dog trainer, recommends http://www.rainbowbridge.com/ as a means to express condolence, especially when we are well-intentioned yet clueless.  "If you really can't connect, it's better to keep your mouth shut because you know you will say the wrong thing.  Fortunately, there are more pet condolence cards available now, as a last resort."


Our pets enrich our lives, and, when they are taken from us, we suffer. Let us be mindful of this and reach out with compassion to those who have lost a beloved animal, giving them time and space for adequate grieving, while letting them know that we understand.

Adapted from: http://www.reuters.com/article/2011/03/07/us-etiquette-pets-condolences-idUSTRE7261RB20110307

Reversing the situation just a bit, many pet owners worry about how their pets will fare if they (the owner) get too sick to properly take care of their pet.

Pet Peace of Mind: A caring program for ailing owners

Imagine this: A person is terminally ill. Has weeks or months to live. Must tend to end-of-life matters, and, with depleted energy and, probably, resources, try to make the most of her remaining time. For this person, a great comfort — perhaps the greatest comfort — is her pet, who provides round-the-clock love during even the worst moments.


Now imagine that in this awful time the patient can eliminate one area of worry: Her much-loved pet's vet care, grooming, food, medicines and other needs will be provided, as if on the wings of angels, free of charge. As the patient grows increasingly unable to provide for the pet that has always stood nearby and continues to do so, there is peace in knowing its every need is being tended to.


That's the sort of experience pet-owning clients of Hospice of Green Country in Tulsa have been able to count on in the last couple of years. The chaplain there, Delana Taylor McNac, a former veterinarian, launched a pet-care program because she knew that keeping their pets near was hugely comforting to the hospice clients, but she was also aware that patients often were unable to provide the care their animals needed.


The Pet Peace of Mind Program that Taylor McNac developed provides not only pet food, vet care, meds for older animals with arthritis or other chronic disease, flea and tick control, and vaccinations, but also sends volunteers to walk dogs, make runs to the groomer, or provides transportation for any other pet need.


I learned of Taylor McNac's efforts 18 months ago when I researched and wrote a story about the tiny handful of programs cropping up around the country to help the elderly or terminally ill keep their animals at the time when, we can assume, they need them most. As I spoke with Taylor McNac back then, I found myself wishing that ailing pet owners everywhere could receive the same solace this woman was bringing to the people of Tulsa.


And now, it turns out, there's a greater chance of that happening.


Banfield Charitable Trust has stepped up to promote and share the Pet Peace of Mind Program with non-profit hospices nationwide, and is offering up to $5,000 in start-up money for those that decide to implement it.


Here's how that happened: Several months ago, Hospice of Green Country applied to Banfield Charitable Trust for a grant for its pet program. And folks there were so impressed with what Taylor McNac was doing in Tulsa, they asked her to reconstruct the early planning phase, create a manual and participate in training in exchange for a grant to grow its program.


"We knew hospices had a desire to help people with pets," says Banfield Charitable Trust's Dianne McGill. But they also knew most hospices couldn't spare the time necessary to deal with all the planning and detail work required to launch such a program, and most couldn't come up with the cash to get it off the ground. Now two of the biggest obstacles are being diminished.


In the month or so since the trust began publicizing through the National Hospice and Palliative Care Organization the availability of the training program and funds, more than 100 hospices have contacted McGill. Five are deeply engaged in the process that will get Pet Peace of Mind launched in their communities.


"We planned for a lot of demand," says McGill, "but the response surprised even us."


Hospices with limited means "need not adopt every facet of the program," says McGill. The materials were developed to be "incredibly flexible" to meet every community's need so each can expand according to its own realities. "Our intent is to arm them for success."


McGill hopes that by the end of this year, "seven to 10 hospices will be in the late stage of start-up."


We can all hope that happens … and that the movement escalates with time.


In its two years of existence, Hospice of Green Country's Pet Peace of Mind Program has helped 89 patients with 239 animals, says Taylor McNac. That's a great many people who probably spent their final days a lot more peacefully. "I want every hospice to offer the same," she says. "The human-animal bond is intense, and it's important we see pets as part of the family system."


And although she's involved in the national effort, Taylor McNac is continuing to fine-tune and add to her own facility's program. She has started a blog; she has formed alliances with some of the local pet rescue groups; and although 90% of her hospice's clients make arrangements for new homes for their pets after they are gone, she wants to help those who haven't, so she's working to add that component.


Banfield Charitable Trust, meanwhile, is continuing fundraising efforts (www.petpom.org) to ensure start-up money will continue to be available to hospices that want to embark on the program.

Adapted from: http://www.usatoday.com/life/columnist/pettalk/2009-06-23-pet-peace-of-mind_N.htm

Now, you understand the double meaning of "End of Life Considerations For Your Pet"....

The Humane Society of the United States also has a couple of web sites with information that might be helpful for those who wish to provide, ahead of time, an organized plan for taking care of their pets.

Providing for Your Pet's Future Without You

Knowing that pets usually have shorter lifespans than humans, you may have planned for your animal friend's passing.


But what if you are the one who becomes ill or incapacitated, or who dies first?


As a responsible pet owner, you provide your pet with food and water, shelter, veterinary care, and love. To ensure that your beloved pet will continue to receive this if something unexpected were to happen to you, it's critical to plan ahead.

http://www.humanesociety.org/assets/pdfs/pets/pets_in_wills_factsheet.pdf 

http://www.humanesociety.org/animals/resources/tips/providing_for_pets_future_without_you.html 


As a lighter ending for this rather somber topic, Helpful Buckeye offers this sincere question and answer from one of my favorite columnists, Clay Thompson, in the Arizona Republic:

Scotsman weighs in on differences between mice, men

Today's question: Do you think animals know that they are going to die some day? I know they realize when they are ill and want to hide, but do they know there is an end?


Well, now, that's a good one.


I don't think anyone knows the answer for sure, so I guess I'll throw it out to you people.


It is true that most animals will go away and find some place to hide when they are sick or injured.


Is that because they know they're dying or because they feel weak and vulnerable and want to feel they are safe?


It also is true that when elephants come across the skeleton of another elephant, they will pick up the bones and sniff them.


Are they just curious or do they detect a familiar smell? Or do they realize those are the bones of a herd mate that won't ever come back? Or are they contemplating their own mortality?


And it's true that some pets seem to know when their human companion is gone. Do they understand that person is dead or do they just feel lonesome?


My guess -- and it's only a guess, mind you -- is that animals do not have enough self-awareness, enough cognitive sense, to know they're going to die.


So what do you people think?


This is what the poet Robert Burns, speaking to a mouse, had to say on the subject:


"Still, thou art blest, compar'd wi' me!


The present only toucheth thee:


But och! I backward cast my e'e, On prospects drear!


An' forward, tho' I canna see, I guess an' fear!"

Adapted from: http://www.azcentral.com/arizonarepublic/local/articles/2011/12/08/20111208clay1209-scotsman-weighs-differences-between-mice-men.html

SPORTS NEWS 
The Pittsburgh Steelers went to Denver today to play the Broncos in the first round of the NFL playoffs....and it wasn't pretty.  First, they dug themselves a big hole and were fortunate to tie the Broncos at the end of regulation.  Then, they gave up an 80-yard TD pass on the first play of overtime.  I don't want to hear any of our Steeler fans moan about all the injuries we had...the guys that played today just didn't do their job very well.  Hats off to Denver, they had a smart game plan and, for the most part, stuck to it.

It's a good thing that I really like college basketball because it will have to scratch my competitive sports itch until baseball gets underway.  And, speaking of baseball, pitchers and catchers report on February 16th.  If you're a baseball fan, you'll understand what that means.  If you're not, I can't help you.  I've already started the process of picking up some tickets to Spring Training...I've got a couple of friends who are just as big baseball fans as yours truly.

PERSONAL STUFF

Most of us know someone who is easily bored...asking us how we find enough to keep us busy.  John Burroughs, Naturalist and Essayist, had this great answer:


“I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see.” 


...that might be what Bronco fans are shouting right now!

~~The goal of this blog is to provide general information and advice to help you be a better pet owner and to have a more rewarding relationship with your pet. This blog does not intend to replace the professional one-on-one care your pet receives from a practicing veterinarian. When in doubt about your pet's health, always visit a veterinarian.~~

Monday, December 19, 2011

END OF LIFE CONSIDERATIONS FOR YOUR PET


Helpful Buckeye recently has had conversations with several different pet owners who either had just had a pet die or they felt that a pet's death was coming soon.  We talked about the various aspects of such a situation, how it got to be that way, what to prepare for, and how the different members of the family might react to...

END OF LIFE CONSIDERATIONS FOR A PET 

We know and understand that all living things grow older and die at some point.  Plant or animal, it makes no difference.  Sometimes the death can be unexpected or come early in the organism's life.  Other times, the death might be anticipated due to poor health or aging.  Regardless of the circumstances, when a pet dies, the pet owners will be affected to some extent.  To help you better prepare yourself for this situation, Helpful Buckeye will present several suggestions about what you might encounter and how to deal with those circumstances.

World’s Oldest Dog Dies at Age 26



Pusuke, listed by the Guinness Book of World Records as the world’s oldest-living dog, died recently in Japan.  He was 26 years old — or somewhere between 117 and 185 in “dog years,” according to various calculations. There is no official method for converting human years to dog years.


The dog’s owner, Yumiko Shinohara, said the male cross-breed died at Sakura in the Tochigi prefecture, north of Tokyo, according to the Kyodo news agency.


Pusuke was reportedly eating well and staying active until Monday, when he lost his appetite and had difficulty breathing. Pusuke died peacefully, minutes after his owner returned home from a walk.


“I think (Pusuke) waited for me to come home,” she said, according to Kyodo.


Born in April of 1985, Pusuke was recognized last December as the world’s oldest-living dog.


The oldest-known dog on record, according to Guinness, was an Australian cattle dog named Bluey, who lived to the ripe old age of 29 years and five months before it was put down in November 1939.

 
In Pusuke's case, his owner obviously had the benefit of knowing that her dog was really old and that death was probably coming soon.  However, she couldn't have known that Pusuke would live for 26 years, well beyond the average of 15 years for a dog of that size.  She had to have known that Pusuke was living on borrowed time for those last 11 years.  Unfortunately, most dog owners cannot expect their dog to live anywhere near that long and they have to be prepared for a more typical scenario.  A much more normal turn of events would be like this story from suburban Chicago:
 
You probably should have a box of tissues handy when you read this....
 
A Death in the Family



Maxx Hill Warren of Irving Park dedicated his life to making people happy. A devoted companion and protector, he despised formalities and insisted on being called only by his first name, like Oprah and Regis. Maxx was short in stature, but tough, and refused to be pushed around by bullies. But folks who knew Maxx best say his bark was worse than his bite.


Maxx was born with an impressive pedigree, but abandoned by his mother at an early age and banished to live on a farm in the Chicago suburbs. In 1998, Kristin Hill Warren, a Chicago mortgage broker, adopted Maxx. They lived together in the city — most recently with Kristin’s husband Eric Warren and daughter Samantha Warren — the rest of his life.


On November 13, 2011 , Maxx, who suffered from congestive heart failure, died at home. He was 72 — in dog years. Bright yellow leaves tumbled from trees lining Hoyne Avenue on the day death made a house call.


Dr. Lisa McIntyre rang the bell. A traveling veterinarian from Naperville, she carried with her a black fleece blanket and a black suitcase. She wore a knit poncho and a somber face. She was there to treat a patient, Maxx the dog, who was suffering from congestive heart failure. Maxx, a 14-year-old Maltese, hadn’t eaten for nearly two weeks. He refused to take his medication, the highest dose allowed. And over the last 24 hours, Maxx rarely took a sip of water.


Maxx’s owners, Kristin Hill Warren and her husband, Eric Warren, hoped against hope that Maxx would get better. Their beloved companion had survived the peaks and valleys of health scares before. “This was just a valley he wasn’t coming out of this time,” Eric says. “He’s just shutting down.”


For weeks, Kristin and Eric cried about Maxx’s declining health. They talked with their friends and the vet about whether it was time to end Max’s suffering. Kristin adopted Maxx 14 years ago, when she was single, lonely and struggling trying to make a career for herself. She didn’t want to let Maxx go. But if she did nothing, she knew that one day soon the tiny white dog’s lungs would fill with fluid. Death by suffocation could be violent and painful.


They had to make a choice. Maxx didn’t have much time left.


A final kindness


Nearly every week, McIntyre makes a similar house call. In-home pet euthanasia has become a growing part of The Welcome Waggin’, her traveling-veterinarian business.


That final house call costs a premium — about $250, which includes euthanasia services, plus an extra $50 transportation fee. Cremation costs extra, too. But some pet owners could pay even more if they make an emergency trip to an all-night veterinary hospital.


No one’s sure exactly how many pets are put down at home each year, but more veterinarians than ever are making euthanasia house calls, says David Kirkpatrick, spokesman for Schaumburg-based American Veterinary Medical Association. “We do not track actual numbers, but it’s certainly a growing trend, particularly with more pet owners looking for ways to more personally and, in some ways, conveniently deal with end-of-life issues,” Kirkpatrick says. “We are hearing more vets are performing the service. And more pet owners are requesting it.”


There are reason for that. More than 59 percent of American households have pets. Over the last several decades, folks have started to treat their animals more like family and less like property. A pet’s death can be traumatic for owners, like losing a good friend. “People view veterinary hospitals as a sterile environment or a place you go for a medical crisis,” McIntyre says. “I don’t think that is the appropriate place to say goodbye to their animals. I think being at home affords comfort and privacy, and I think it removes a great deal of anxiety on the animal’s part, as well as pet owner’s part, as they have to say goodbye.”


For weeks, Kristin and Eric watched Maxx’s health deteriorate. They didn’t want Maxx to suffer. They didn’t want Maxx to die on a cold, metal table at an animal hospital. They certainly didn’t want strangers in the vet’s lobby — parents with children taking puppies and kitties for routine vaccinations — to see them leave in tears. So last Saturday, Kristin called McIntyre, who agreed to come over at 10 the next morning. The visit would be Kristin’s gift, a final kindness, for Maxx.


‘It was time’


On Sunday morning, Maxx walked in to the living room, his paws slipping on the glossy hardwood, to sniff a stranger’s pants leg. For the past few days, all Maxx had done was sleep and pace around the house, a modest A-frame. Kristin bought the place because it had an extra-wide lot with a side yard perfect for her dog. “This is Maxx’s house,” Eric says.


Kristin lifted Maxx onto their bed, where Maxx sleeps every night. McIntyre offered Maxx a tiny beef-flavored treat. A last meal. Maxx refused it.


As McIntyre explained to Kristin and Eric what would happen next, Maxx jumped off the bed and made a slow lap around the house. Maxx returned to the water bowl, took a long drink and returned to the bedroom.


Samantha Grace Warren, just 4 months old, woke up from a nap and started to cry. Eric picked her up and cradled her. He laid Samantha on the bed next to Maxx, the girl’s first doggie. Whenever Samantha cried to demand a nightly feeding, Maxx always followed Kristin into the baby’s room and waited, like a protector, until the baby went back to sleep. On Saturday night, Samantha slept through the night for the first time.


“It’s like Maxx’s job is done now,” Kristin says. Kristin put Maxx back on the bed, gently stroking her dog’s velvet coat.


The past few days had been especially difficult for Kristin and Eric. So many tears. “Last night, it sounds funny but . . . ” Eric says, stopping mid-sentence. For a moment, he sobbed. “I had a conversation with Maxx. He told me it was time,” Eric says. “That helps you, you know . . . when it comes to realization and acceptance.”


‘Bye, Maxx’


McIntyre opened her bag and pulled out a syringe filled with a heavy sedative. “This is the part I expect him to react to,” she says. “Anything we can do to distract him. Scratch his ears if he likes that.” She inserted the needle and injected the drugs into a vein. Maxx let out a series of high-pitched squeals, shaking his back leg. Kristin and McIntyre petted Maxx to calm him.


“You’re such a good dog,” McIntyre says, reassuring Kristin that Maxx’s yelp was a reaction to irritation from the injection. In just a few seconds, Maxx lay down on the blanket. Samantha cried. “Come pet him, honey,” Kristin says to her husband, who leaned over the bed to rub Maxx behind the ears. “If there was a candidate for doggie heaven, it was this little guy,” Eric says.


McIntyre talked in almost a whisper, consciously trying to create “positive energy” and to be a “comforting presence.” The medication worked faster than usual.


“He doesn’t have the light in his eyes that I remember seeing in him,” McIntyre says. Kristin last saw that sparkle on Halloween. Maxx loved his pumpkin costume.


“All right,” Eric says, petting the family dog for the last time. “Bye, Maxx.”


McIntyre quietly speaks directly to Maxx for his owners’ sake. “We’re going to let you go . . . release you from your body,” she says. “It doesn’t want to help you anymore and do what you want it to do. You’ve been such a good boy, we’re just going to do what’s right for you.”


McIntyre reassures Kristin and Eric on their decision. “I think it’s a gift,” she says. “It’s a huge responsibility, but I think he gave every sign in the book.”


Then, McIntyre slipped a tourniquet over Maxx’s leg. “He looks like he’s sleeping,” Kristin says. McIntyre inserted a needle filled with a barbiturate overdose that would stop Maxx’s heart. “What you will see is his breaths will stop in a minute or two,” she says. “And then I’ll listen to make sure his heart has stopped.”


“He won’t feel this?” Kristin asked. “He’s not feeling anything,” McIntyre says. “He’s not aware what’s going on.” Almost immediately after McIntyre injected the final shot, Maxx’s chest stopped moving. Kristin gently closed Maxx’s eyelids.


McIntyre listened for vital signs and confirmed that Maxx was gone. “That was quick,” Kristin says. “I could tell right when it stopped. This was more peaceful than I thought . . . This was nice.”


Kristin unclipped Maxx’s collar and handed it to her husband, who held their daughter close to his chest. Eric set the collar — tiny white bones printed on a faded red strap — on the dresser next to their wedding picture.


McIntyre wrapped Maxx in a thick, fleece blanket and carried him outside. Later, she would take Maxx’s body to be cremated.


Kristin and Eric sat on the couch in the living room.


“It was really peaceful for me,” Kristin said. “It actually made it better. He slept in that bed for years. For me, it was peaceful . . . I don’t know why. It was just warm . . . You think of him laying there and his spirit is leaving him and going to heaven.”


Kristin says they plan to put together video of Maxx’s best days for Samantha. They have plenty of footage. Until Samantha was born, Maxx was their baby. They want their daughter to remember her first dog, the best dog.


Closure


In a few days, McIntyre will knock on the door of another owner with a terminally ill pet. She considers her work an act of kindness.


“I hope that by going into people’s houses that — Kristin and Eric especially — they have some closure. That this was a peaceful experience for them. Their last memories of Maxx . . . they’ll be able to focus on Halloween . . . and times he sat up at night by Kristin,” McIntyre says. “I want them to go on and be open to accept another pet in their life. And for their daughter to have another dog some day.”

Adapted from: http://www.suntimes.com/9064539-417/a-death-in-the-family.html

Every one who has had a pet dog or cat has most likely experienced something similar to this story.  Everybody handles this situation a bit differently, in a way that is comfortable for them...but, the basics are all here in this heart-felt account.  A quick show of hands right here...how many of you read this without shedding a tear?


No matter the amount of sorrow that comes with these situations, it's still very important to understand the meanings and consequences of  "end of life choices":

Making End-of-Life Choices for Our Pets



It was a tough day for a new veterinarian. I stepped out of the exam room and walked to my desk visibly upset. The senior partner of the three-doctor practice asked me what was wrong. Three times that morning a client had asked me if they should end their pet's life, and I felt ill-prepared to counsel people in these cases. If the person who lived with my patient was unclear, how could I know better? What if I was wrong? Can we predict miracles? I did not want to "play God," and I was afraid of making a decision that would turn out to be incorrect. After all, the choice to euthanize a beloved pet is permanent. No amount of regret can undo the action once it is done.


The gentle older veterinarian rubbed his salt and pepper beard and acknowledged my concerns. He asked if I would like some suggestions.  What followed was some of the best advice anyone has ever given me:


1. Acknowledge the affection and feelings associated with a pet's life. The word "euthanasia" means "to bring about a good death." The choice to treat or euthanize is a major one. No one, veterinarian or guardian, wants to be wrong. It's simply a very big choice. While none of us ever wants our favorite fuzzy friend to leave, we do desire that they pass gently and without pain, suffering, fear or degradation. This means that questions about when and how are natural and necessary between people who share affection for animals.



2. Clients and doctors are partners. Clients and veterinarians share information and they share decision making, but there is a sacred aspect of the human-animal bond that is best described in the concept of stewardship. Ultimately, the steward of this patient is the guardian. No veterinarian can make the final choice for an animal guardian. The final choice must come from them, but it's natural and beneficial for a veterinarian to assist in that process as an extension of the professional and personal relationship that manifests from our shared affection for living things.



3. Acknowledge the guardian's love and track record in making good choices. Many of us worry about making mistakes, and in medicine mistakes can be fatal and lead to irreversible damage. The fear of error can actually make us more likely to make mistakes, so we are better off in this discussion if we banish fear, and realize that this process is simply about loving our friends and making choices based upon what is best for them. Looking and discussing work better than worrying. Most of us make right choices when we are given safe space, correct information and support, which allows us time to come to a conclusion on our own.



4. Ask, "Does he have more good days than bad ones? More good moments than bad?" Honestly assessing this question gently leads most people to a safer place for discussion. It is amazing to me how fast many people answer this question and how easily it leads them to sensible choices. Sometimes we are not really looking, and we may need to honestly and objectively assess this fact before we can decide. In most cases it is fine to simply decide to take a week and really look at this fact. People need to be aware though that conditions can change, and so it is important to look for more than just a moment. For instance, some arthritis pain cases get really bad after cold, wet weather. Waiting until the weather clears may result in a totally different decision, so do be sure to give enough time to really know.



5. Knowing it's time. Many people experience a moment where they look at their pet and suddenly a moment of calm silence ensues when they know it is time. If a person knows it is time and I have no other medical information to share then I feel good about their choice.



6. If it is not time, is there something that needs to occur? A family member may wish to visit and say their goodbyes, or we may want to share a few more ball catches at the beach, or watch some more sunsets together. If we can name those things and enjoy each moment, then it becomes easier to say farewell.



7. Do you know your options? It is necessary to know all the options before deciding. Euthanasia can be done in the examining room of the veterinary hospital, or it can be done at home. People can be present or not depending on their needs. There are other options beside euthanasia, as natural death following hospice is a rich choice for many people. Hospice is a growing area of interest, especially as our technical abilities improve. I've lectured for years about how we can address the needs of clients and patients with "hopeless or terminal" diseases. Some of these patients can live long, happy lives despite their serious conventionally diagnosed condition. In their lives, we learn so many lessons that enrich our abilities to be happy.


All living things are born, grow old and pass away. Death is a part of living and if we concentrate on living then we have better, happier lives. If we face death with the same sense of love and understanding that we live our lives, then we can navigate this process and learn many things along the way. As death comes, we are faced with the importance of relationship and not with things. Sometimes just calmly being together is the greatest gift of all. Don't wait to learn that lesson.

Adapted from:

This discussion will continue in the issue of Questions On Dogs and Cats that arrives on January 8, 2012.  In the meantime, Helpful Buckeye will offer a Christmas weekend edition and a New Year's weekend edition that will be loaded with interesting stories, facts, and fables about pets for your holiday enjoyment.  Don't miss them!

SPORTS NEWS

The Pittsburgh Steelers will be playing at San Francisco Monday night, against a 49ers team with the same 10-3 record as the Steelers.  Unfortunately, we'll be a bit short-handed...our QB might not be able to play, nor our starting center.  Beyond that, our best linebacker has been suspended for this game due to a stupid tackle he made in last week's game.  We have 2 much easier games to finish the season and should qualify for the playoffs without any problem.  However, the coaching staff will have to decide if it's more important to win this game or hold the injured players out so they can recover better for the playoffs.

The Ohio State basketball team remains in the #2 spot of the polls.

PERSONAL STUFF

Several quotes caught my attention this week.  Since we're not only well into the holiday season, but also rapidly approaching the beginning of a new year, I felt this group of thoughts will give all of us grist to mull over as we get ready for 2012:


“Whatever is beautiful is a joy for all seasons.”  Oscar Wilde, Writer and poet


“Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn, or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude.”  Denis Waitley, Author


"Never refuse any advance of true friendship, for if nine out of ten bring you nothing but an acquaintanceship, one alone may repay you and become a really good friend."  --Claudine Guérin de Tencin, French socialite and author

~~The goal of this blog is to provide general information and advice to help you be a better pet owner and to have a more rewarding relationship with your pet. This blog does not intend to replace the professional one-on-one care your pet receives from a practicing veterinarian. When in doubt about your pet's health, always visit a veterinarian.~~