I recently read about a young woman who documented her dog’s last day on earth on Snapchat. Her dog’s health was declining and she had made the heart wrenching decision to put her dog to sleep. I know this decision is heat wrenching, because I have had to make it once before, and I am on the door step of having to make it again, it is beyond heartbreaking for not only me, but my family as well. She is half black lab and half german shepherd. We got her when she was only 8 weeks old and she is now 14 years old. The fur around her face has turned gray, her eyes don’t “sparkle” like they once did, but she is still loved more than she knows and she is still smiling. My kids grew up with her, my husband (sometimes) had to fight her for a spot in the bed (before she got to big). She fit into our family perfectly and we would not trade our time with her for anything in the world.
After watching the video on Facebook of this lady’s efforts, I was, or course, in tears, but it started me thinking about the relationship between my dog, and us, her people. The day that we brought her home was a surprise for all of us! She didn’t know that she was going to come home with us and we didn’t know either. But when we (I) first laid eyes on her, I knew we couldn’t leave without her. Thankfully, I have a wonderful husband that agreed and away we went, and the rest, as they say, is history.
About a year ago, we thought she was starting to exhibit signs of arthritis, so we loaded her up and took her to the vet and he gave her some medicine that was to help alleviate the discomfort that comes with arthritis and it seemed to help. A few months ago, we started noticing that she was struggling to get from laying down to standing up along with some other symptoms that didn’t match up with arthritis. We started watching her movements closer and soon realized that there was definitely something more going on. My husband took to the interweb and started researching her symptoms and what we discovered was devastating. I decided that I would consult with our vet and also and friend of mine that is a vet and see if, in fact, what we found could be her problem. They both concurred. She has what is called canine degenerative myelopathy. There is no cure and it is not reversible. It is progressive disease of the canine spinal cord that is similar in many ways to amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease. Onset is typically after the age of 7 years and it is seen most frequently in dogs with “long backs”. Progressive weakness and in coordination of the rear limbs are often the first signs seen in affected dogs, with progression over time to complete paralysis.
As you can see, this diagnosis was heartbreaking for all of us, and of course OC (our dog) doesn’t understand why her legs don’t work like they used to, but like I said, she is still smiling. Since this is a progressive disease, it has begun to affect the way that her tail wags, she has the lack of coordination in her back legs (she has fallen several times) and eventually it will affect her breathing and she will also lose control of her bladder and bowels. Just like in humans, she has good days and she has bad days and her bad days have become my bad days.
Many conversations have already been had about “when the time comes” and they all suck. But something I read shortly after seeing the Snapchat about the dog’s last day, has stuck with me. “Sometimes the kindest thing to do is also the hardest.” Our “old lady”, as we lovingly refer to her as, trusts us to make the right decisions for her, to be there for her now, just like she has been there for us her whole life. I asked my vet friend, Jim, “How will we know when it’s time?” Now, let me just tell you really quick, this is the same vet and friend that was with me the first time I was involved in the same decision, so he knows quite well how attached I am. The words that he spoke to me have played over in my mind 100 times if not more. He looked at me and smiled and said, “You’ll know, and you will want her to go while she still has her dignity.” Truer words have never been spoken in this case and I will forever be grateful to him for saying them.
This picture was taken 2 years ago, and this is how she ALWAYS lays. When Jim said what he did and used the word “dignity”, I nearly lost it, because she is just that, dignified.
We will cherish the time that we have left with her, and we know that it probably won’t be much, but we’ll take it. We will miss her terribly when she’s gone, but we know that she will always be a part of us, she was our dog, and we were her people. Our house is not a home with out a dog, so after a while, I’m sure we will get another one, but I promise you this, there will only ever be 1 “Old Lady” 
Keeping it Real 