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  • From: SJC <indexer AT localnet.com>
  • To: homestead AT lists.ibiblio.org
  • Subject: Re: [Homestead] How to end life of pets
  • Date: Thu, 13 Nov 2008 21:52:30 -0500

This is a bit late, but just now reading posts from some days back.

For 20 years we had a little mutt whose only purpose in life was to love kids and be loved by kids. She was found in the woods when the oldest of my guys were about 4 & 8 or so, ill, in fact I thought it was a dead pup someone had thrown out but sure enough, Ol' Sharp Eyes managed to spy her rib cage move. I explained, more or less, catastrophic illness and the possibilities of recovery and told them the humane thing to do would be to dig a shallow grave, lay pup in and step quickly and firmly on it's head. Off they went, with sober faces. Came back up to house later, washed hands, all seemed well.

About a month later, the local vet called me and said "You know, it's OK with me, but the boys are getting awfully attached to this dog"---they'd hied through the woods and taken the thing to him and somehow or other he'd managed to keep it alive overnight, so they went by every morning on the way to the boatyard and cleaned out dog crates for it's keep, and the dog was recovering.

So that was Fritter's start. She eventually came home to live, and the first thing I discovered was that that dog was stupid as a stick. Furthermore, she'd had no mama time, so no dog-learnin', either. But she glommed onto me like she'd never seen a human before and of course I fell for it. She came at a time when our family was in turmoil and was good medicine. Eventually she learned from the other dogs and began to actually act like a dog, although she never was the least bit smart. Only dog I ever had that never got into trouble. You could drop meat right in front of that dope and she just looked up with a look on her face "hey, ya dropped the meat". Bawl her out once for something and she never repeated it.

Eventually she outlived the other dogs and when I actually got the only puppy I've ever deliberately acquired, he dared, on day one, to pee in the house right in front of the door. HA! Not in My House! said Fritter. And he never peed in the house again. I swear she followed that poor baby around the house for a month giving him the "dog eye". Slept right beside his crate just in case he got out of line. She who'd had no mama was his mama.

I was devastated when she developed a tumor that put increasing pressure on her heart and lungs. She rapidly grew worse. When? How? Don't think I ever agonized over a decision like I did that one. I didn't want her to have to get much worse, but she was the world's worst baby, used to shriek every time she got a rabies shot, if she got a foot stepped on she'd go 3-legged and look pitiful for 3 days, which fortunately seemed to be as long as she could remember it, because the 4th day she was always 'cured'. No much of a lap dog nor did she like to be held, preferred to watch things from a distance. Rarely warmed up to people who came to the house, so getting the vet out to the house (which our vet will do) wasn't a good option, was terrified of the vet at his office. Time marching by.....

I was saved by the dead neighbor. Woman had moved into her house just a few months previous and died suddenly, had no apparent family or friends, and I, as the 'senior neighbor' (people can think of any sort of title if they want something) was asked by the town to clean up the house. Found a partial container of liquid morphine in syrup form, about 4 oz left in it. I tightened the cap and pocketed it. So the next sunny day I spent the morning in the yard with Fritter, about noon she began to run down. I gave her a full 8-oz bar of Baker's Chocolate, which she had been hankering for all her life, three Lorna Doones which she also loved, then the entirety of the bottle of morphine. She ran around pretty happy for about 15 minutes, went out the dog door, inspected her run as always, found her spot of sun, turned around 3 times, lay down and died there about 10 minutes later with me watching through the window, bawling.

It was the best I could do. I doubt I can ever do better for any pet. In the first place, no way anybody's gonna give a person a script for that much morphine (at least in this state), and it would take quite a bit for a bigger dog, or one with a sturdier body. She was down to about 9 pounds from her prior 15. And in many cases it would run risk of causing a massive seizure......Frit was too weak I think for that; it just slowed her heart/breathing down and she went easy.
Whether there's a way to rig something similar I don't know. Would depend on a lot of things. Might, or might not, be worth pondering.

But I'd get the little bugger back tomorrow if I could.

SusanJane






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