I don't like the idea of mercy killings, whether it is animals or people. It just seems somehow unethical in a sickening kind of way
Why the hell do folks say "I had my dog euthanized"? They say it because it somehow soothes their super-sensitive feelings; as if giving it to someone else to kill in a special way behind closed doors makes the act deserving of a different term. Foolishness! Just tell it like it is. "I killed my dog because its life isn't worth paying for, and I'd rather have Starbucks than pay for dog costs. If it comes to life again, I'll fill it full of bullets or smash its skull." Of course, nobody says that... because we want to believe some hogwash about happy places in which there is a soft, appealing term for everything. The people who "euthanize" dogs are also the people who believe that ham is made by happy smiling animated disney character pigs that never die. You "put your animal to sleep"? Liar! YA KILLED IT!
There is no more twisted perversion that the subtle self-tricking which weak-minded people do to themselves through illusion; and it usually works, except for in cases like this when their fragile, weak sensitivities are forced to become fully aware of reality.
Have you ever had a family pet that you had to make that decision for?
In March, I had to take my 14 year old lab to the vet for the last time. For nearly 2 years he struggled with ever worsening arthritis and hip problems. Medication and diet were helping alleviate the symptoms and he was able to move around. He started getting much worse over a relatively short period of time, to the point where he could hardly stand up on his own. We tried a new, stronger medication that had no great effect.
He was still eating and drinking and up until the end had the brightest eyes. Whenever we came home, we could hear his tail thumping on the hardwood floor, even though it was a struggle to get to his feet. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak.
The week we made the decision, I slept on the kitchen floor next to him in a sleeping bag one night because he wouldn't stop whining. He wanted to be with his people and couldn't move to get there.
I knew it was time when he couldn't get up to get to his food and when I went to get him off the deck and he was laying in his own urine. I slept next to him again that night.
The next morning I took him to the vet and stayed with him the whole time. He had been with us through 14 years, it was the least I could do for him.
I knew what I was doing and I knew it was the best thing for him. When you take an animal into your family, you promise to take care of it, up until the end.
It wasn't an easy decision and regardless of what it was called, it was still the same result. When I left the vet's office, all I would have left was his collar and he'd be dead.
I'm guessing you haven't been there before.
)
