Rose napping this morning. Some people (a lot of people) have been e-mailing, fearing that Rose has died, because of the content below. She is fine. I just liked the photo with the text is all, and was perhaps thinking of the inevitable time when I will have to face life without Rose. Hopefully that is a good ways off.)

March 8, 2010 – Sunny, cool. Decisions regarding the death of animals are personal. I can only speak for myself, and from my own experience. People have to make up their own minds. I have seen over the past decade a change in perspective about animals and their death.

There is the political idea that animals should not be killed or euthanized but kept alive at all costs and by any means. There is the deepening view of animals as human-like, as children. More and more people believe that dogs think like us, have souls. There is a growing belief that dogs are intellectual equivalents of people, psychics, therapists almost, best friends and soul connections. That they can spot our illnesses, sense our death, even heal us.

Veterinarians and psychologists report dramatic increases in the length and severity of animal grieving. Decisions regarding animal welfare and health care have gotten mixed up in corporate money-grubbing. Animal health care is a multi-billion industry. Surgery for dogs and cats is on the rise, and it is getting  more expensive. Decisions regarding the end of life for animals are also more complex, as the Internet has spawned the idea that the veterinary industry is corrupt or inadequate, and that there are all kinds of new and effective healing solutions, if only we will go out and find them. The idea is growing that our vets may be hiding these approaches from us. And there are plenty of people online with all sorts of answers to complex questions.

People, accordingly, feel enormous confusion and guilt when their dogs and cats get sick and die. For me, this speaks of loss of perspective. I do not equate dogs with children or human beings. I celebrate the differences. It demeans dogs and people to compare them. Each is different in precious, even sacred ways.

I think it is important for people to come to terms in their own ways with the reality of animals – they don’t live long, their health is fragile, our society cannot afford unlimited health care for them. We can’t even afford it for people.

For me, people are more important than dogs and other pets, and I love my dogs dearly. I always seek to keep in mind the ethical questions involved in how much money I spend on an animals, how long I will prolong their lives. For me, it is disturbing to equate dogs and cats with children. It is not ethical to spend unlimited amounts of money on animal health care when so many human beings are needy. It is important to give people permission to be advocates for their dogs and pets and help them leave the world with dignity and comfort. We owe them that. I do not believe my dogs will tell me when it is time for them to leave the world.

That is an abrogation of my responsibility to them, to act as their advocate in a human world they cannot negotiate by themselves. For me, ethical grieving means recognizing the sanctity of the animal, and the glorious differences between them and us. And meeting my responsibilities.

If dogs could speak, I believe they would tell me this: “I loved serving you. I am grateful to have entered your life. I hope you will give another good home to another dog or animal in need of one. And thank you for letting me move on.”