Our dialogue here about grieving and suffering is over, at least for now.

Diane (not her real name) wrote to me tonight to say that she and husband put the dog we call Simon down on Sunday, she sent me a photo of him to share.

The day before yesterday to say she was drowning in sadness and was reaching out for “words of comfort or something fortifying.”

I doubt I was much help, but I thought our conversation spoke to the best of the Internet and was meaningful to a lot of people.

Rather than keep the conversation just between the two of us, I opened it up to the blog readers.

I offered to post Diane’s real name and e-mail if it would be helpful to get messages from this community. She said thanks, but she declined, she said she and her husband are okay, they are now “in a good place,” now that the decision has been made.

From her message today, she has found herself.

She expected her dog to live for a few days, but she sent me this message this afternoon:

“He’s gone. Our hearts are bruised, but not broken. I think when I talked about the boogie men, what they really are is the DECISION. When I woke up this morning knowing that we didn’t even have time to wait for our own vet to get back into town, and found a clinic that was open on a Sunday, I felt profound relief along with the sadness. Every time that we go through this I get a little bit more wisdom about the end of life issues with my pets. 

We went the whole chemo route once, and it was awful. Never again, we said. Today as left the clinic, we realized that even the decision to try Prednisone a week ago, when we got the diagnosis, was just grasping at some nonexistent hope. We’re OK, the awfulness has dissipated, and I’m looking at pictures and laughing at this incredibly smart and goofy fellow who graces are lives. Dogs are the best.”

As I suspected, she and her husband figured it out for themselves, they got to a good place and ended their dog’s suffering as well as their own. Grief, like fear, can be an awful burden, but it is still just geography, a space to cross.

They remembered to be grateful as well as said. She knows she will get another dog and love it also.

There is another side to grief and suffering. It’s often very difficult to remember that.

I thank Diane for trusting me with this conversation, from my e-mail, it has been helpful and meaningful to many people. She strikes me as a strong and thoughtful person, she is clear that she can handle it, I doubt she will be posting on  Facebook about Simon for years.

I am eager to see a photo of her next dog.

I think decisions are the boogie men. When I wrote Going Home: Finding Peace When Pets Die, I learned that the people who feel the worst guilt about letting their dogs go are the most blameless, and people who feel none are the coldest and cruelest.

My own personal idea about stewardship and animal ethics – this is not a message for anyone else, I don’t judge other people or tell them what to do  – is to not prolong the life of my dogs that are critically ill or diagnosed with fatal diseases.

I will not subject them to chemo, powerful medications, or invasive and extensive procedures that are frightening and disorienting to them, and that they can not possibly agree to or understand.

I will not put my own finances in jeopardy to keep them alive for me.  The love of dogs is not measured by money.

I work hard so that my dogs can live a full and healthy life, but when they can no longer function naturally, I give them the last gift of helping them to leave the world in comfort and peace.

The history of dogs is about service and pain and companionship, not pain and misery.

As Diane has learned,  and many veterinarians have told me, keeping sick dogs alive can be selfish, something we do for us, not for them. I wish we could spare our mother and fathers and friends the pain we can spare our dogs from having to endure.

Thanks for following this story, and participating in it with your many comments and thoughts. It’s true that the Internet can promote connection as well as division and rage.

Godspeed, Simon.

And Diane is right. Dogs are the best.