Euthanasia Dog Quotes

Dogs do not have many advantages over people, but one of them is extremely important: euthanasia is not forbidden by law in their case; animals have the right to a merciful death.

Death gets a bad rap. People think that euthanasia is putting their pets “down” when it really is lifting us up. In the first moment, when we come back to earth, we remember the comfort of the Heaven we came from and this is why we cry when we are born. When we are born in Heaven we come in laughing not crying! In birth we have the passage and then the pain. In death we have the pain and then the passage.

Then one day we suddenly realized that we had been keeping him alive not because it was good for him, but because it was good for us, because it was too hard to make the decision to let him go. And in the joyful bargain between dog and person, that is the one unforgivable cheat.

If we look honestly at the way many people manage their dogs today, we are faced with a staggering reflection of irresponsibility and lack of compassion. It is difficult to refer to a dog as “man’s best friend” when more than six million unwanted adult dogs and puppies are euthanized every year. We are not speaking here of the humane killing of animals done out of a sense of responsible stewardship but of the massive human negligence that leads to euthanasia. For those who doubt the serious implications of this situation, a trip to the local animal shelter can be a real eye-opener. We recall one client who dismissed our advice about spaying her female shepherd, explaining she felt it was important for her children to have the experience of seeing puppies born. When we asked her how she intended to care for and give homes to the puppies, she responded that she really had not thought about it at all and that she would probably leave them at the local humane society when it was time for them to be weaned. We then asked her what value such an experience would have if the principal lesson her children would learn is that puppies are cute little playthings who, when sufficiently used, may then be conveniently disposed of. Fortunately, our questioning convinced her of her faulty thinking, and she left with a new respect for the implications of bringing puppies into the world.

It's just part of me feels like I owe it to the animal to be strong, to be supportive in their place now that they are gone.

You take refuge in pets, and then there are pets that you love more than you thought you could, and the years go by fast, and suddenly you're standing there watching as they don't die quickly from the injection like the vet assured you they would. And you stand there feeling like once again you're screwing up the bigger plan that something up there must have, trying to snuff this innocent thing out quietly and quickly because of what happened inside of its liver, heart, and kidneys; because they said there would be only painful weeks left anyway; weeks of more breakdown and bad cell division, bleeding, dehydration; you couldn't stand seeing the pain, the blood coming up again, and innocent eyes full of confusion and so you said yes. You think you're being strong again, you agree, you bring her in, one quick little tiny sting and then it's off to sleep in heaven, if animals can get in. The paw is shaved, the little sting happens, you put her favorite toy down next to the cold, clear, thin hose full of a drip of who knows, the hose that has no idea what it's really doing today, the tube you keep second-guessing. But, go, just go, just go, just do this, fuck, nobody's ever going to explain it, do it, do it, do it. And suddenly she's full of life again, looking at you like you've made yet another mistake on this planet, how the fuck did this happen, how does any of it happen, cats, dogs, babies, parents, all turned to fucking angels living in a place you aren't even sure you believe in.

In the United States alone, the cost of veterinary care associated with genetic diseases in purebred dogs is estimated at a billion dollars each year! One out of every four purebred dogs is afflicted with a genetic problem serious enough that it can only be ended by euthanasia. Many dogs suffer silently with incurable diseases for their entire lives.

It is interesting, in this context, to think again of our earlier argument that membership of the species Homo sapiens does not entitle a being to better treatment than a being at a similar mental level who is a member of a different species. We could also have said – except that it seemed too obvious to need saying – that membership of the species Homo sapiens is not a reason for giving a being worse treatment than a member of a different species. Yet in respect of euthanasia, this needs to be said. If your dog is ill and in pain with no chance of recovery, the humane thing to do is take her to the vet, who will end her suffering swiftly with a lethal injection. To ‘allow nature to take its course’, withholding treatment while your dog dies slowly and in distress over days, weeks or months, would obviously be wrong. It is only our misplaced respect for the doctrine of the sanctity of human life that prevents us from seeing that what it is obviously wrong to do to a dog, it is equally wrong to do to a human being who has never been able to express a view about such matters.

Sometimes nature can take its course and shove it. Our commitment to protecting our cat or dog is life-long and sadly, sometimes, that includes protection from discomfort and pain, even if, in the vet's opinion, this means euthanasia.

Dr. Emily and her vet tech Kate show up to my house at seven p.m. and we decide to do the euthanasia outside on my back patio. I don’t want Petunia’s soul getting stuck in the house. I want it to float up and out into the sky. Dr. Emily walks me through exactly how it will go. First Petunia will get a medication that will make her sleep. Once she’s asleep she won’t feel anything. Then she will receive medication to slowly and peacefully stop her heart. The whole thing should take around twenty minutes. “Do you want a few minutes alone with her before we start?” Dr. Emily’s voice is soft. She places her hand on my back. Both she and Kate have known Petunia for years, and like everyone who knows Petunia, they love her. Petunia will die surrounded by love. I pick my beloved dog up into my arms and walk with her from room to room of our house, recounting all the things we did together in those sacred spaces. In the kitchen, I say “This is where you watched me bake banana bread and licked spilled flour dustings from the floor.” In the dining room: “This is where we ate dinner. Remember how beautiful it looked the first night I lit all the candles?” In the living room: “This is where we watched movies.” And in my office, my favorite room, the room where my new career and life have flourished, I say “This is where we pulled tarot cards every morning. This is where you helped me sew lampshades. This is where you kept me company while I edited all the photographs.

Woody's life was leaking away but I was the one who stepped forward and pulled the plug. Was my timing right? Could he have had another day at home, another week? Could he have gone for one more turn around the park, had one last supper? We'll never know and to handle the reality of euthanasia I learned to be comfortable with the ambiguity and magnitude of when to take a life. All I know for sure is at that irredeemable moment when I drive the plunger home, I will be there for the person trading the overpowering presence of love and companionship with their pet for the cold, empty ache of loss.

Massive round-ups of strays have been replaced by daily intake and elimination, the large crate full of dead dogs replaced by a steady trickle of bodies. Euthanasia has become assembly-line work, performed by an army of euthanasia technicians and animal control officers. The mass killing of animals is no longer a public spectacle as it was that day in 1877 along the banks of the East River. It is all but invisible to pet owners, who therefore don’t have to feel discomfort or moral outrage. The slow bleed of our shelter system is one of the saddest aspects of our pet obsession.

Euthanasia derives from the Greek, meaning good death.

The idea has been around for a while. Artificial-life hobbyists all agree on the impossibility of digients ever getting legal protection as a class, citing dogs as an example: human compassion for dogs is both deep and wide, but the euthanasia of dogs in pet shelters amounts to an ongoing canine holocaust, and if the courts haven’t put a stop to that, they certainly aren’t going to grant protection to entities that lack a heartbeat. Given this, some owners believe the most they can hope for is legal protection on an individual basis: by filing articles of incorporation on a specific digient, an owner can take advantage of a substantial body of case law that establishes rights for nonhuman entities. Hecht is the first one to have actually done it.

Something within me imploded, like the universe had instantly folded inside itself into a mere dot, then exploded again; I wailed, startling the vet, who left the room.

First, they contend that compassion makes euthanasia morally mandatory. We wouldn’t let our dog continue to scream for years with uncontrolled pain: we’d take it to the vet to be put down. Why should we deny to humans what basic decency makes us do to our dogs? And second, they emphasize autonomy. Our lives are our own, they say. We can decide what to do with them. If we choose to end them, that’s our business.

When I was falling asleep I wondered why we draw so many distinctions between animals and humans. We will put a possum or dog ‘out of its misery’ but euthanasia is mostly still illegal for humans. And why do we think there’s so much difference between physical and emotional pain—chronic, debilitating emotional pain? It’s a sliding scale. A possum run over is okay. A person choosing to end their physical pain is almost, kind of, sometimes okay. A person like me choosing to end an internal type of suffering is definitely not okay.

The increase in the aggressive tendencies in "man's best friend" that is leading to so many euthanasias is another example of the companion animal as the sentinel to mankind of the effects of vaccines. Mercury is now known to increase anxiety, irritability, depression and aggression. They have both animal and human studies to prove that vaccines containing mercury and aluminum are responsible for a large field of neurodegenerative disorders.

Not being able to touch the severely aggressive dog until after it has been sedated before euthanasia is just as sad, because it indicates to me a distinct possibility that the dog never consciously knew a kind hand.