Quality of Life

I'm not entirely certain why I'm posting a sequal to my blog 'Mostly Murphy'. Maybe it's such a visceral issue and one of severe importance that just deserves it.

I doubt I'll shed new light on it for you but some of the responses I've received have caused me to further contemplate.

So I went to the park to ask questions and seek answers I had shelved five years ago when I was first confronted with the issue of euthanization with my dog, Malcolm.

There are people much smarter than me who have tried to quantify quality of life - the Tripawds folks posted a link to an article in the comments section of the previous post that's probably worth looking into though I haven't read it yet.

The two times I came close to euthanizing him this past week were based on 'criteria' like significant debilitation in hind legs, reduction of appetite, and neuralgia from nerve damage. Taken together, it's no stretch I was ready to let him go.

But I didn't because on one of our daily outings - last Thursday - he led me into the woods at Overton Park on his own. And then Sunday he surprised me again.

You see, in a big way I was looking at his symptoms to dictate my decisions. We know even the most advanced diagnostics or keen clinical evaluations cannot communicate the will and desire to live.

Yes I pray for guidance daily and I listen to Murphy as best I think I can but even the generally accepted 'He'll tell you when he's ready' just isn't enough for a father like me.

Honestly can you really tell the distinction between when your dog has tummy upset and malaise from mismedication and infection versus cachexia from cancer? And before you answer that - would you bet their life on it? When you're dealing with cancer there is a complexity and cascade of symptoms that makes a definitive assessment next to impossible.

Throw in the maelstrom of emotions all of us go through and that further complicates decisions. So when I was able to finally reduce the question of quality of life down to two simple words, 'Mostly Murphy', trust me I wasn't trying to be cutesy or soundbitey.

So long as most of the personality traits I've come to know and love as his dad continue to shine through, I cannot take his life. That supposes of course he's able to eat, is ambulatory, and has normal body functions but that assumption can be made for most of the pet parents I know.

What I have reevaluated through all of this though is the conversation we're having which should be about euthanizing too early NOT about suffering. Pain doesn't go with you when you pass so holding on a couple of more days just to be sure is not unusually or unnecessarily cruel.

I'm grateful I didn't let Murphy go yet because he still has so much love in him and quite a lot of pep in his step. In fact, I am taking him to Kentucky this weekend to see some dear friends of ours and I think a road trip can do us some good.

To misquote the late great Davy Crockett, former Senator from Tennessee, "Cancer may go to hell... We're going to Bowling Green".