My dog, Gryphon, is dying. I guess we all are, but he is a lot closer than I am. It is a hard thing to watch though, and difficult to know when to intervene. Currently he is happy in himself, still wants to play, is eating like a horse, but his back end just doesn't work much any more, and the medication required to keep it in some sort of order has its own problems - so it is a delicate balancing act that is getting harder as time goes by.
One of the worst things is that he has effectively lost control of his bowels. And in a German Shepherd Dog that means a lot of clean up required. I don't sleep a lot these days as I usually have one and sometimes more than one cleanup required overnight. He has only fallen in his own faeces a few times, so he still has some control once he realises it is happening, but even so it is a management problem.
In some respects I wish he'd have gone like my last German Shepherd. Daicos (my father was a Collingwood fan and he named him) one morning whimpered when getting up and went outside to sleep on the concrete - even though it was sub zero temperatures. We got him to the vet who diagnosed haemangiosarcoma, and he was admitted to the vet hospital. He died before the next sunrise. It was a shock, but in hindsight was probably far better than the lingering death the poor Gryph is suffering.
When do you say enough is enough? How do you determine when it his quality of life has reached the point that death is the better choice? It is an awesome responsibility, but one I cannot fail in. If I leave him to suffer unnecessarily because of some twisted self interest, then I have failed in my duty as his pack leader. If I jump too soon then I have condemned him to die before his time. He has been a good friend and companion and I cannot make a mistake if I am to live with the decision.
We have come up with the "couch index". Gryphon loves his couches. He moves from couch to couch throughout the day, picking the one that gives him the best view, warmth or closeness to the rest of the family, depending on his want. Yes, he is spoiled. Don't bother complaining, I don't care what you think. Anyway, we have decided that when he can no longer get onto his couches, even with steps in front, then his quality of life will have hit rock bottom and I have to make a hard decision. With my previous Lhasa Apso, it was the "chicken index", when he would refuse a chicken dinner - we knew it was time. And it was, and I was happy that I'd made the right decision at the right time. I'm not sure it is going to be anywhere near as clear cut with poor Gryph, but while he wants to be around I will try and make his life as comfortable as possible, and as soon as he wants out, I will not hesitate. I will be gutted, but I will not hesitate.