Who decides when "it's time"?

In the last couple of weeks, Lucky's back legs have not been working much at all.  It's been an adjustment for us but not one that has been terribly difficult.  I was already helping her walk with the sling so the only difference is that my arms are getting a way better work out than they were before, when Lucky was "sharing the load" so to speak.  Since I am doing all the work for her back end, it's requiring more arm strength for me and a little more coordination for the both of us, but we're making it work.  

I have been the recipient of comments during these last few weeks, some subtle, and some not so subtle, where people suggest maybe it's time to put her down.  My flippant and somewhat humorous response is: "If your mom couldn't walk, would you put her down?" but it has made me think a lot about this part of an animals journey and how we make the choice of when 'it's time."

I have always believed that the choice was up to the animal and our only job was to listen to them, to pay attention to what they were showing us.  Aside from the fact that Lucky needs my help to walk, she's perfectly normal in every other way.   She's still eating with gusto, she's still playing with toys, she's still waking me up in the morning by "singing" and she's still alert and happy.  Nothing in her behavior or demeanor is telling me that she is ready to go.  

But people still question my choice.  I have been pondering this issue for a while now, not only because of my own situation but also because I have friends and clients who are also dealing with pets who are aging and losing certain abilities.  I have realized that often when people decide to put their animal down, it's because THEY can't do it anymore.  I am not saying that is wrong, because we all have to decide what is right for us.  

I guess I look at aging more as part of the process of life. I am not afraid of it.  I have seen Lucky change in the last few years.  I have seen her unable to do things she used to be able to do and I learned a while back from a sweet Pug named Max that we have to just keep re-defining "normal."   What was normal before (chasing the tennis ball and running on the beach) has now been replaced with a new definition of normal and I know that definition will keep changing.  

These days, laying on the floor in the family room together while I read a book and hold her paw with my free hand is our new 'normal.'  It's not the same as running on the beach but it is just as sweet.  And now when we go to the park, instead of the kids throwing the ball for Lucky, they just sit around her and pet her and talk to her.  It's not the same as before, but it is no less touching to see Lucky light up in the presence of children.  

Several of my clients are dealing with these issues as well.  Potty accidents are becoming more frequent, as they have from time to time with Lucky.  Do you decide to put your animal down because they have a few accidents? or do you just keep a supply of towels handy?  I realize it's a personal choice.  If you can't handle the accidents, then maybe you make once choice.  If you decide that getting some pads to put down under them is an OK solution or having that extra supply of towels around, then you make another choice.  

I think about myself and how I would want to be treated when I get older and begin to lose my faculties.  I wouldn't want to be put down because I occasionally lost bladder control.  I would want to be treated with kindness and respect, regardless of what I could or couldn't do anymore.  And I have realized that that is what I am trying to do with Lucky.  I am trying to treat her with kindness and respect.  I am trying to honor her in this part of her life as much as I honored her in the previous 13 years.  I am trying to enjoy the time we have together and make it as fun for both of us as possible.  I am trying to not make a big deal about the changes we are going through, trying to help her see that we're still OK, we're still a team and letting her know I don't mind helping her with things she didn't used to need my help with. 

Most importantly, I am paying attention to her and I am listening.  When she's ready to go, I know she'll tell me, she'll show me.  I know I need to not let other people's opinions make me second guess myself or Lucky.  We've been together for thirteen and a half years and if anyone knows Lucky, it's me.  Just as my clients and friends know their animals better than anyone else.  We all have to make the decisions based on what is right for us and hopefully, what is right for our animals as well.  But if you try to tell me that I should put Lucky down because her back legs aren't working, I will tell you that Lucky isn't as concerned about it as you are.  :-) 

It is difficult in some moments?  Absolutely yes.  Last weekend when she woke me up in the middle of the night to let me know she needed to throw up, I tried to get her out of my bedroom and into the backyard.  My back, which has been a little taxed from all the extra physical requirements decided it wasn't going to cooperate with us and it gave out on me.  Sitting on the floor of my bedroom, I knew I would never be able to get both of us up and out to the backyard in time, so I grabbed one of the towels I have on hand and put it in front of her.  She threw up on the towel.  It wasn't the end of the world.  Of course, in a moment of weakness and overload, it didn't stop me from crying and telling her I was sorry I couldn't get her out in the yard but she understood.  I put the towel in the laundry room to deal with in the morning and once I got her back on her bed, we both went back to sleep.  

On the plus side, I have better arms muscles than I have ever had before and I don't even need to go to the gym.  I look at this time as just a part of our journey - the part where I get to give to her - to let her know how much I truly appreciate all she has done for me over the years.  I look at it as an honor.  We're partners in this world, at this time.  I would do anything for her, just as I know she would do anything for me.  I will continue to try to be the person she believes I am . . . strong, capable, resilient, loving and kind.  And when she tells me it is time for her to go, at least I will know that I honored her to her last day.

Preparing for the end

This week, Lucky's health took a turn for the worse.  It was such a dramatic decline, it was like getting slapped in the face with reality . . . a reality I have, on some level, been avoiding.  I had rationalized that if I started to "prepare" for the end (i.e. figuring out what I was going to do with Lucky's body after she passed, and the mechanics of how all that was going to work), that I would somehow be putting a message out to the universe that I was ready, that I wanted it to happen.  And I have been anything but ready, so I have put off thinking about any of the details.  Some of my resistance was almost child like in a way . . . the "If i don't think about it, it won't happen" mentality but I think my biggest fear was that Lucky would think that I WANTED her to go if I was making preparations for her departure.  

Thursday night was such a long and scary night for us, I was finally forced to confront all the things I didn't want to face.  I had "the talk" with her . . . where I told her it was OK for her to go. I explained that I didn't want her to but that I understood that she was going to have to leave me at some point and that if she was ready to go, I would honor that.  I told her that she didn't need to stay on my account and that I would be alright if it was time for her to go. I did an enormous amount of crying that night . . . as I told her how much she had meant to me, how much I had learned from her during our almost 13.5 years together, how grateful I was that she had come into my life to be my guardian, my teacher and my best friend.  I slept on the floor with her that night, not able to sleep for more than 10 minutes at a time, for fear that she wouldn't be breathing when I woke up and I didn't want to be asleep when she made her transition.  Miraculously, Friday morning came and she was still here.  She actually seemed better than she had been the night before and I wondered if maybe it was just a bad night and not a sign she was getting ready to leave.  But I also knew that was wishful thinking on my part.  My intuition tells me the end is near . . . I don't know if it's going to be days or weeks, but I know our time together is limited.  

Friday afternoon, I focused on getting prepared.  I contacted a pet cemetery that I know of that does cremations and gathered all the information I needed, i.e. their hours of operations, details about getting her body there, information on costs, how individual cremations are done, what the options are for attending a cremation, etc.  If felt good to have the information I needed and to have a better understanding of how all that worked.  I then tried to think through the mechanics of it all . . . a place I have not wanted to go . . . but I knew it was a necessity.  My biggest fears were that I may not be able to get her into the car by myself and that I may be too emotional to safely drive her to the cemetery.  It is moments like this that I struggle with being a single woman.  For the most part, I am able to handle just about anything by myself but when it comes to losing Lucky, I have found myself wishing I had a husband or partner who would help me with these types of things.  

Rather than wallow in self pity on that, I decided to figure out how I could get the help that I needed without running out to try and find a husband on short demand.  I emailed two male friends of mine who both happen to have flexible hours and ask them if they would be willing to help me with these two issues when the time came.  They both responded saying they would be more than happy to help and to just let them know what I needed.  I shouldn't have been surprised. They are both incredibly kind and generous.  I knew they would help me. The problem lies with me and my hesitancy to ask for help sometimes.  

With all those details worked out, I was amazed at how much calmer I felt.  I was glad I was able to get those details figured out and now there aren't any more unknowns . . . well, there is one more unknown, and it's one I am still having trouble facing completely.  My wish is that Lucky will pass on her own, without any medical intervention on my part. I have talked to her about it and let her know how I feel.  There's no way of knowing if she'll be able to honor my request but I am praying that she can.  We don't currently have a veterinarian and if Lucky needed assistance passing, I don't know what we would do.  I hate the idea of having a stranger come and give her a shot to help her pass.  I hope it doesn't come to that, because I feel much more comfortable with the idea of Lucky going peacefully on her own but I guess only time will tell on that one.  

So, I was feeling pretty good about where we were.  I had faced reality and had survived.  I reminded Lucky and the Universe that it didn't mean I WANTED her to go, but that I was ready and at peace about it for when the time came.  I didn't realize I still had something else to address until I got on the computer and read my emails tonight.  

I have recently been in touch with an old boyfriend of mine from college.  We broke up in 1984 and until a few days ago, we hadn't been in touch since.  Twenty five years is a long time to go without speaking and we've had a lot of catching up to do.  I have been feeling grateful to reconnect, and feeling blessed that there are no hard feelings between us at all.  Our break up wasn't ugly, we didn't dislike each other or fight.  In fact, we both still respect one another a lot. Our break up was more an issue of distance than anything else. 

When I got on the computer tonight and found an email from him, something in his email hit me like a ton of bricks.  He said that he realized through our relationship how challenging long distance relationships were because we spent what precious little time we had together dreading the fact that we would soon be apart again, which put a big damper on our time together. Reading that line, I felt like someone slapped me upside the head and I realized how truly important his words were.  

Even though he was talking about us, I could see that it was also a message for me right now . . . and how I was feeling about Lucky.  I had made my peace with the fact that she is leaving soon but I was doing exactly what he and I used to do . . . being more focused on how sad we were going to be when our visit ended, instead of enjoying every moment of our visit.  I have spent the last two days feeling the sadness of Lucky's imminent departure instead of really enjoying my time with her.  I have let myself get overwhelmed with grief over how I'll get through my morning routine without her there, or how much I will miss going to the park and seeing all her friends after she is gone or how depressing it will be to run an errand without her in the car with me.  I have been thinking about how sad I am going to be when she is gone, rather than letting myself enjoy her company now.  His email was a major wake up call to me and I am determined to adjust my attitude right now.  

I am going to embrace every day, every hour that I have left with Lucky.  I am going to make sure I am appreciating this precious time that we have and letting her know I am still happy that she is here with me.  

I can't help thinking I am getting some cosmic guidance here.  To hear from my old boyfriend out of the blue after 25 years and to get the guidance that I really need and that he probably didn't even realize he was offering me seems like more than just a coincidence.  The timing is certainly interesting.  I am grateful that he got in touch with me and grateful that he was able to give me the push that I needed to adjust my attitude.  I am now going to get back in the other room with Lucky and have some fun with her.  

When animals are nearing the end of their life

In my work with animals, I often work with them when they are nearing the end of their lives, and they have taught me a great deal about that process.  When I first started giving Reiki to animals, it was hard for me because I wanted to believe that they could all be healed and live forever.  I know, a little-girl mentality but one I had a hard time shaking. It was hard for me to accept that I couldn't change destiny, and hard for me to accept that animals were going to die, regardless of how much Reiki I gave them.

Over time, I have realized that the work I do with animals at the end of their life has more to do with helping their guardians. I don't believe animals are afraid to die. What they do worry about is their guardians.  They worry that they are going to be sad, they worry that they are going to second guess themselves or not be ok once their animal is gone.  I am given a beautiful opportunity to help guardians and their animals talk to each other and to help the guardians feel at peace about the process of their animals passing on. I truly believe that animals come into our lives for a reason, to teach us things or support us in special ways, and I believe that animals are at peace when they die because they know they have fulfilled their purpose in our lives. I try to help people see the gifts they received from their animals and help them understand that those gifts are not taken away when the animals die. Those gifts are theirs to hold forever.  

If you have a pet that is nearing the end of their lives, I know it comes with great sadness. I also believe that we can be more at peace about it if we talk to our animals before they transition. I encourage you to tell your pet how much they have meant to you, let them know what you have learned and gained as a result of them being in your life. Assure them that their work is complete, that the gifts they brought to you have been received and are appreciated.  

In honoring their lives and all they have brought to us, we can find a peace inside of us, and we can give them peace as well.  If they know we appreciate what they have done and they know we are going to be OK after they are gone, they will not worry about us as much and then will be able to go peacefully. I can't think of a better way to honor an animal than to thank them for what they have done for us and remind them that we will hold them in our hearts forever.