The love of a dog, the love for a dog

On this Valentine's Day, it seems appropriate to write about something close to my heart......the love of a dog, and the love for a dog.

I am often frustrated with people who are interested in obtaining a rescue dog but will not consider anything but a young pup. Meanwhile lovely senior dogs sit in the shelters for months on end or are euthanized unnecessarily. The excuse for not adopting a senior is always the same……"I couldn’t stand to lose it after just a few years or less”.

I am even more frustrated (in fact, outraged) by those who abandon their senior dog with any one of a multitude of excuses: they have bought a young pup and the older dog doesn’t like it, the dog has started to have incontinence issues, the kids have grown and left home and so the parents want to travel, etc.

To decide you don’t want the dog who has been part of your family for years is, to me, as immoral as abandoning your child. The only exception, from my point of view, is the very elderly or very ill adult who must enter a care facility where dogs are not allowed (and that’s a whole ‘nother rant!!).

Dogs are sentient beings, who feel emotions of fear, abandonment, joy, contentment....and, dare I say, love. They may not buy us flowers or bring us chocolates on Valentine's Day, but their loyalty, devotion, and happy wag of the tail says volumes more than flowers and chocolates ever could.

The first criteria for anyone adopting a puppy should be “am I willing to commit to this dog for the next 20 years?”. If the answer is "No", or "I'm not sure", or even just "Sure, I guess so" rather than "Absolutely!!", then consider adopting a senior whose life expectancy will not possibly extend beyond the years you are willing to commit. Or consider fostering, or volunteering at your local shelter, or helping out at an animal sanctuary.

Senior dogs are amazing – even if they have never received formal obedience training, they are settled, they have generally outgrown their annoying puppyhood tendencies to chew everything, chase everything, jump on everyone. They are a pleasure to have around – a great companion. If they should become incontinent, there are ways to manage that – from baby gates to doggy diapers to medications.

But I started this post not with the intent of praising senior dogs (though I love my two seniors to bits), but because of Caleb.

Caleb is five. I adopted him seven months ago. When I recently adopted Belle, who is 12, I did so knowing that I will be fortunate to have even three or four years with her, if that. Caleb, on the other hand, was only five. I expected many, many more years with Caleb. In all likelihood, however, he will be the first to go.

Two months ago he was diagnosed with cancer. Even had I opted for an aggressive chemotherapy protocol (weekly treatments a two hour drive away for 26 weeks, and possible toxic vomiting and diarrhea for several days after each treatment), his life expectancy would only be about one more year. Instead, I opted for holistic treatment (including prednisone, which is a form of chemo but in tablet form), as he had a rough enough life before coming to me and I could not fathom putting him through any more scary situations. On prednisone, life expectancy is about six-eight months.

Life expectancy is a vague term. It is an average. I know dogs who have lived with cancer for ten or twelve years beyond their diagnosis, even without chemo. I know dogs with cancer who died just weeks after the diagnoses.

The past four days, Caleb has become increasingly ill. His lymph nodes are swollen and this time are not responding to prednisone; he has been bringing up clear fluids frequently (even right after his meals; no food, just fluid), and he is tired. Yesterday the vet thought it was just a gastro-intestinal reaction to prednisone and gave him an anti-nausea shot and pills to coat the stomach – and yet despite that, I was up with him from 10:30 PM to 3:30 AM as he gagged and choked and coughed and brought up more and more clear fluid. Today, although he woke feeling much better and enjoyed a nice walk with his friend Kelly at daycare, he was too tired to play much with the other dogs. And this evening, his light dinner did not stay down, and he has lost interest in chasing the cat.

While I am still doing everything I can to treat him, to keep him comfortable, and to give him the quality of life every dog deserves, I know his time with me is likely very limited. When the time comes to let him go, I will grieve deeply. But I will not regret, for a single moment, having adopted him. I just expected to have him with me a lot, lot longer.

There are no guarantees in life. We can only take comfort knowing that we have provided the very best care for the lifetime of the dog we chose, whether we choose a puppy or a five year old brindle pitti that nobody wanted, or a twelve year old senior whose owners have died. It is not, after all, about what WE need, it is about what the animals need. They are dependent upon us to provide for them. They are dependent on our love.

And the rewards for loving that dog, and for honoring our commitment to the dog, are endless. The unconditional love of a dog, the wagging tail when you come home, the head on your lap as you watch tv……there is no end to the joy they bring and the memories they leave you with, no matter how short the time you have with them.

Now go hug your dog. You never know when their earth walk will be over.