[Jim.Skehill]

I'm a new member of this forum. Three weeks ago I had to put down Lizzie, my dog for almost sixteen years. I got a lot of help from this forum in what was a very difficult time for us so I thought I'd post my experience in hopes that others might receive similar help and comfort. This is not a memorial to Lizzie. I'll do that in a separate post. This post is to describe what we went through in the final months of Lizzie's life.

First a bit of background. Lizzie was the first dog my wife and I ever owned. We got her from the Toronto Humane Society after she was picked up as a stray in January, 1995. She was 3 months old Lab-Cross.

While Lizzie enjoyed excellent health most of her life, when she passed her 10th year I became more concerned when she had various health problems. For example one time she let out a yelp when climbing the stairs and began limping. But the vets concluded she had pulled a muscle, prescribed steroids, and within a week Lizzie was her normal bratty self. There were a number of incidents like these and each time she bounced back. However in the back of my mind was the nagging truth: there would come a time when she would not bounce back.

In her 14th year she exhibited the odd "seniors moment". For example one time I was out walking her and Scamp, our other dog, a Shetland Sheepdog four years younger then Lizzie. I was in conversation with another dog owner for a few minutes, then turned around and Lizzie was nowhere to be seen. After rushing around in a panic for five minutes I saw her in the distance and ran to fetch her. It was the first time she ever wandered off but was not the last. After that time I made a point of keeping a closer eye on her when she was off-leash.

In her 15th year her hearing went and after that the ailments came thick and fast. She had trouble walking due to arthritis but Tramadol seemed to deal with that quite well. She began to have problems on the linoleum floor in our kitchen - her feet would slide out from under her. Some mats helped that situation. She became increasingly unsteady on her feet and in her final three months I had to carry her up and down all stairs. She also seems to have problems with depth perception. Initially she stumbled a few times times when coming to the curb, then would "hop" unto the curb, as if wanting to clear it with room to spare. She was never a big eater, but she became quite thin.

On Oct 9th of this year Lizzie saw her 16th birthday and a few days after that I decided to put her to sleep on Oct 22nd. Like any senior Lizzie had here good days and bad days and I initially had planned to wait for her to have a few consecutive bad days before putting her down. But I decided that this would be too hard to watch, and even if it did extend her life by, say, a month it was bound to be the worst month of her life, especially with winter coming on. And while she still seemed to enjoy her food, The list of ailments above should tell you she really couldn't enjoy much else.

Deciding on a date gave me a sense of relief. It was around two weeks away which give us all time to prepare for here leaving and, should she exhibit a bit of recovery we could always postpone it. As it turned out she didn't. The day came and as I gave her coat one last brushing before driving to the vet the radio played "We're Here for a Good Time (Not a Long Time)". The truth of that sentiment really struck me.

We wondered what effect Lizzie's passing would have on Scamp. While Lizzie was his constant companion since he was a pup she hadn't really provided a lot of company for the last few months. When I took Lizzie out the door for the last time I told Scamp to say goodbye but he didn't seem to know what I meant. However when my wife got home later she found him howling, something I've heard him do it less than 10 times in 12 years. So, somehow, he seemed to know what was going on.

Being with Lizzie as she was put to sleep was very hard on me. Strictly speaking I didn't have to be there but we had come so far together that it was unthinkable not to be there when she walked her last mile.

As I left the vet I was sad but also relieved. Lizzie last months seemed to cast a pall over me. Normally I'm an upbeat person, but in those days her deteriorating condition was never far from my mind. I remember how Kubler-Ross observed that people who find they have cancer go through phases and I think I experiences at least three of those phases. I certainly went through denial, expecting Lizzie to bounce back tomorrow, then grieving when I wished I come just turn back the clock for her, and finally acceptance: that her time to leave was approaching and all I could do was make her as comfortable as possible. While it was a sad time I'm reminded of what Queen Elizabeth once said: Grief is the price we pay for love.

In the end Lizzie and I have so little to complain about. From an unpromising beginning as a stray mutt on the winter streets of Toronto we managed to find one another. She had a long and healthy life in a family that loved her and I tried to make her departure as easy as possible. Recently I came across a poem that I felt gave words to what Lizzie was telling me in her last days:

Miss Me - But Let Me Go!

Edgar A. Guest

When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room.
Why cry for a soul set free?

Miss me a little - but not too long
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we once shared,
Miss me - but let me go.

For this is a journey that we all must take
And each must go alone.
It's all a part of the Master's plan,
A step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick of heart
Go to the friends we know
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds.
Miss Me - But Let me Go!

[lange]

I'm sorry for your loss. Your post is very touching, I'm glad you shared those personal moments with us. I've very recently lost a relative so even in that sense I can appreciate your words & the beautiful poems you touch on.

[Lunareclipse]

Lizzie was a very pretty doggie. Do you have a sheltie too?

[CorkyMax]

So sorry for your loss. I know how you must be feeling as I had to put my 12 yr old golden/cocker down 5 months ago and I still miss him terribly---Your post made me cry. I am adopting a little girl---a little puzzle as to what she is but very pretty. I was looking for another Corky (dog I had to put down). I know you are not suppose to do that but if I had found one--You can bet I would have it!! As it is, I think Corky had a 'paw' in directing me to her. She was in a high kill pound and was scheduled to be gassed the next morning. I felt so awful about having to put Corky down that he directed me not only to just finding her but saving her too was his way of helping me over having to put him to sleep. You can see my Corky in my album on my profile page. Have pics of the new little girl---Have not even met her yet. Will see if I can add a link or 2 of her here.

Time is suppose to be the healer--I know I will never forget my Corky the same as you will never forget your Lizzie but the pain will get less.

[Lara's mom]

I'm so very sorry for the loss of your beautiful girl. Perhaps, you can take some comfort in knowing that Lizzie knew how much you loved her and how you tried to make the time she had left as good as possible.

I think your memorial poem is just beautiful. You are what all dog parents should aspire to be.