Euthanasia

As far back as I can remember, Dad told me if I live a good and righteous life, God would never give me a task I could not handle. Never would I be faced with a decision I could not make.

Last week I found my father had lied. An immediate family member needed exploratory surgery that could save his life. It was a shot in the dark, but still it was a chance. The only other option was euthanasia. And it was my choice to make.

How many times do you subject your loved one to the pain of an operation and long recovery only to have the condition relapse all over again in a couple of months? How do people make a decision about life and death without a wife or husband to lean on and give them guidance? Such was my choice to make alone; The Wife was out of town.

The morning before surgery, Country wasn’t his normal self and neither was I. He didn’t jump up to greet me as he has done for the last 10 years. The food he normally attacked was simply sniffed. Without a bite, he walked over and lay under the ceiling fan. I sat next to him as he placed his muzzle on my lap and looked up with sad brown eyes. Somehow it seemed that he knew the choice I had to make.

At 10, Country still thinks he’s a big old puppy. He is always there with a jump, a tail wag or a friendly lick to the face. My dog never barks unless there’s a reason too, or if severe weather is approaching. Even at 70 pounds and inside the safe basement, the big goof is still afraid of thunderstorms.

In the vet’s office, before the nurse took him back, I gently rubbed his gray muzzle. He just looked up at me with understanding. Something was wrong and he may not make it. It was in those eyes that I found answers from long ago. Without saying a word he gave me permission — and forgiveness. With one last tail wag he disappeared around the corner.

In that instant I didn’t see any resentment for all the time not spent with him. No anger for leaving him home when we went to the lake, or ball field. He held no grudge for all the time left out in the rain or cold.

All I saw was an unconditional love.

Like most, I have strong feelings about euthanasia, but the incident with my dog last week has changed them. For you see, I’ve seen eyes brown eyes like that many years before. They were another beloved family member’s whose body had been ravaged by cancer.

After multiple surgeries, my parents made the decision that enough was enough, and to end the endless surgeries and treatment. As I carried my mom down the steps to the waiting ambulance, she looked up at me. Not a word was spoken. Through her eyes, I saw understanding of what was about to happen. I saw them look over at my dad and give him strength, permission — and forgiveness. There was no resentment for anything done or left undone. All I saw was an undying love that not even death has extinguished.

At the time I didn’t understand how they could stop fighting for my mom’s life when there was still even a slim chance of survival. I do now.

There comes a time in life if you truly love someone, or something, you have to let them go. We are given the option of euthanizing an animal that has cancer or some other terminal illness so it will not continue to suffer. It’s in the best interest of the loved one and the most humane thing to do.

Country survived his surgery and is thoroughly enjoying his food, car rides and walks around the lake once again.

Their life may end, but their love never will.