“Before you get a dog, you can’t quite imagine what living with one might be like; afterward, you can’t imagine living any other way.”
–Caroline Knapp (American writer)

The other day, my wife and I came upon a friend of ours. She was walking her dog, who was limping noticeably. We knew the dog had sustained an injury, but when we asked if the injury was improving, she told us the dog would have to have a cranial cruciate ligament repair, the canine version of a human anterior cruciate ligament repair. When she told us the estimated surgery cost (thousands!), my immediate response was, “But what choice do you have?”

Indeed. What choice do we have when our dog–I’m going with dog, but you can substitute cat, horse, pot-bellied pig, gerbil, or whatever–is in need of medication or surgery that will be curative? When it comes to our pets, we’ve grown accustomed to the notion of surgery for injuries and medications for maladies like diabetes or adrenal insufficiency. Not for selfish prolongation of life, mind you, but for restoration of near-normal function.

Another case in point comes to mind. A now-ordained Haitian minister tells a story of when he first came to our country for post-graduate study. One day, his sponsoring host told him she was taking her dog to the vet to have an eye infection evaluated and treated. The young man broke down and cried. He explained that his thoughts went to his Haitian countrymen, many of whom have no healthcare for themselves, much less for their pets.

Is there anything wrong with our devotion to our dogs and our willingness to provide them with the best of healthcare? Of course not. We bring them into our lives and they become an integral part of our families … so much so that we often wonder how we “did life” without them.

Just go on social media sites and read tear-jerking entries devoted to a recently-deceased dog. People are heartbroken, and they spill their emotions onto the pages of their posts.

In the same way, we know when our dog no longer has that zest for life, that gleam in her eye, or that pep in his step. While I’m not in favor of human euthanasia, in my experience, there’s something very humane and decent about ending our dogs’ lives when the joy in their eyes is gone.

Our pets depend on us to make appropriate decisions for them, and after they’ve given so much to us, the least we can do is to end their lives painlessly and humanely when that time comes.

Rather than focusing on the sadness of the loss, better in my opinion to focus on the years of happiness and comfort we provided for them, and how they repaid us in spades.

Yes, there’s a tremendous disparity between the quality of our lives, and those of our pets, compared to what people experience elsewhere, notably in third-world countries. While it’s easy to feel guilty about that fact, it’s better, I think, to thank God for our bountiful blessings, including the furry creatures He brings into our lives. My best guess is He expects us to love and care for them, and always do the right thing for them. To do so speaks to our humanity.

One last thought: If we believe Heaven is the perfect place to spend eternity, doesn’t it stand to reason that we’ll do so in the company of all those pets that went before us?