Whenever we visited, Sammy would put in his customary 'just checking you out' appearance, he could be heard coming long before he arrived. I would (apparently) amuse his owners by singing the 'One Singular Sensation' song from 'A Chorus Line' to accompany his visitation. He was quite a character. Then one day when we visited, and I got ready to give my not-so-impromptu performance, Sammy did not appear. After a while Sharon voiced what we were both wondering, and asked where he was? "Oh, we had to take him to the vet" our friends explained. "He was just getting too old."
It's more then fifteen years since this came to pass, but I've never forgotten it. Sammy wasn't diseased, and he wasn't infirm. He was just "too old". It was the first time I'd ever encountered a pet owner doing something like that, and I was shocked. But if I'm truthful, at that time I wasn't knowledgeable enough about dogs, dog ownership or the fates of our four legged friends to think that this was anything too unusual. It would be many, many years before Kaiti, our only dog at that time, would fall into the category where she might risk classification as "too old"; and by that time, the notion of having her put to sleep because of her advanced years would be as utterly unthinkable to me as anything inconceivable that may be imagined.
Time and experience of the dog world at large brings uncomfortable wisdom, and since that time, I've come across countless instances of dogs being 'euthanized' because they are "too old". For many owners, the ultimate decision to PTS seems to be something they accept as par for the course, a natural conclusion to dog ownership. Quite apart from my general abhorrence of this as a practice, I must reluctantly admit that the one saving virtue of this most selfish course of action is the fact that at least it is over quickly for the dog. But I don't mean 'over quickly' in contrast with the long and protracted (and possibly uncomfortable) decent into oblivion that life may have in store, which is wholly natural and necessary part of their journey on the ascension pathway. I mean that it is perhaps preferable to the alternative pursued by vast numbers of pet owners, which is to put their dogs into rescue shelters.
In the majority of cases, I'm quite sure that the people believe that they are doing the 'right thing' by their pet, since surely it is better to place the animal in a shelter where it will be loved and cared for, rather than pursue the heartless and less palatable PTS option? One would hope that they take this action in ignorance of the fact that shelters and humane societies do not have limitless resources, and that they certainly don't realize that unless another home is found for the 'moved on' pet, their days are likely numbered. And why should they be aware of the fact that senior dogs are the most difficult to rehome of all? Surely it is more than a whimsical fantasy that they believe that this type of establishment is there to act as a canine geriatric nursing home? After all, it is only the most cynical of minds that would suspect that these well intended owners are acting out of callous self interest.
Bitter irony and dripping sarcasm aside, the plain truth is that putting any dog into rescue is taking a gamble with its life. Abandoning an older dog is tantamount to a death sentence. From my perspective, doing it when they are at the most vulnerable time of their lives is perhaps the greatest cruelty that can be inflicted.
Try to see it from their perspective. They have been with you (possibly) for the majority of their lifetime. They have most likely developed an intimate relationship of trust with you. They depend upon you for everything from daily sustenance and exercise to kind words and comfort. In return, their objective in life has (probably) evolved to the point where to please you is all that they desire. Even though you can't necessarily recognize it, their devotion to you is total, the bond only strengthened by the time you have spent together. You are in partnership with them every bit as much as you are with another human... at least from their perspective. So how much of a devastating betrayal is it for them to suddenly find themselves ripped apart from the person or family that they adore, and the home that may be all that they have known? What must it be like to suddenly and unexpectedly find themselves in a terrifying world without familiarity, comfort or love? It's a nightmare that befalls more than you can conceivably imagine.
I am left speechless that anyone can do this to a dog. Surely upon making the placement, anyone who witnesses the torture and distress this rank and thoughtless cruelty puts them through would instantly have a change of heart and relent on the abandonment? But of course what happens is that the owners deposit their faithful friend at the shelter, handing over the leash to the staff, and walk away without a backward glance. A few tears on the way home will assuage the momentary guilt and a liberal dose of "It's all for the best" is enough to restore the old emotional equilibrium.
Meanwhile, there's a heartbroken soul stuck in a stark, brick walled 4' x 6' cell, who's dying inside. And even if they survive more than two weeks, they'll never recover from the incomprehensible betrayal they've experienced. In February I posted a quote on our Facebook fan page that said:
He is your partner, your defender, your dog.
You are his life, his love, his leader.
He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart.
You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion.
Why is it that so many people just don't get that?