Bud has many admirers, and I thank you for all of your gracious and supportive (mostly) messages.
Bud is his roaring, unstoppable self today, stealing socks from the bedroom, demanding treats, barking at Amish horse carriages, stalking a squirrel outside, eating my sugar-free lollipops, wrestling with Zinnia, and jumping onto my lap while I was reading.
Bud is the Little King, he goes where he wants and does what he wishes to, and oddly, we love him for it.
The dog has a great spirit, especially given what he’s into. He seems to be fine.
His illness sparked me to write about the limits I feel when it comes to dog care, which, like health care, is bank-busting and ethically troubling. That touched off a lively and mostly positive discussion online.
I spelled out how far I would go and how far I wouldn’t go to keep Bud alive if he had a chronic or life-threatening disease.
Bud was in a lot of pain yesterday, so it got my wheels turning in preparation for what the vet might say.
I believe it’s essential to decide what you will and won’t do and can and can’t do. Once you’re in the vet’s office making decisions, you often cannot keep perspective. Emotional spur-of-the-moment decisions are dangerous and expensive. And most vets will tell you what they can do but not what they can’t do.
My vet and I have been through this a dozen heartbreaking times, and we understand each other. If we can cure the dog, we will; if we can’t, we’ll face it and let them leave the world in comfort and dignity, just as I would like to leave the earth myself. I spent a small fortune on my dogs, but there are also limits to what I can and will spend.
Almost all of the comments were supportive, much like Suzi Bailey’s:
THANK YOU for this, Jon. You and Maria have prepared clearly defined parameters ahead of à crisis for what you will and will not do for your animals. We have done the same, as best we can, to discuss the range of possible illnesses, diseases, old age decline problems, quality of life… So that we know the limits to what we will do, or what we will spend, and what is best for the pet (always). Is it okay for me to save this blog post? For when I may need to be comforted by your wise words some inevitable day
Of course, not everyone agrees with me.
Julie Emmerich: You can justify spending thousands of dollars on cameras you don’t need, but you wouldn’t spend the same amount on your dog. Warped priorities!
Julie meant to condemn me (p.s. she doesn’t like me much), but she raised an interesting issue I hadn’t thought of and got me thinking. Thank you for that, Julie.
Can I justify having two expensive Leica cameras while deciding not to spend thousands of dollars on my dog to examine them and keep them alive beyond their natural ability? I did think about the question today, and my answer is yes, I can justify it, and to myself, the only person I need to explain it to.
I’m unsure how Julie knows whether or not I need my cameras since I don’t know her, and she has never met or spoken to me. I can’t imagine telling her what her priorities ought to be or what she needs. How could I know”
People who do know me, including me, think otherwise.
I agree with Suzi.
When loving dogs, it is a moral obligation to know what we will do and what we can’t or won’t do.
We owe them clarity and mercy, not selfishness and emotional excess. As much as I love my dogs, I hope to never make them the only priority in my life, for their sake and mine. My job is to spare them pain and suffering, that is my first priority.
Keeping them alive by any means at all costs is not what dogs are about in my mind. For me, it speaks to a loss of perspective, not a merciful outcome.
They support and comfort us; they don’t ruin our lives in the name of love.
Every vet I know tells me awful stories about dogs and cats suffering for years in expensive surgeries and doped up on costly medications for illnesses that cannot be cured.
Art, photography, and creativity are a huge part of my life, job, income, identity, state of mind, and marriage. I would not have given up my flower photos for any animal I know or even most people I know.
If I had to choose between taking Bud to a specialist, specific surgery, MRI’s, Ultra-Sound, examinations and medicines, and hours of treatment, and if that meant I could not take pictures any longer or practice my art or creativity, I would choose to put the dog down. It would not be close. Maria shares that view, and she re-homes spiders and crickets.
To Julie and others, this means I have warped priorities.
But, to me, the warped priority is losing all perspective on the animals we love and treating them like human children (or often, better), and sacrificing our security, financial stability, and creativity to prolong the life of an animal for one or two years, often in pain and bewilderment.
I got one e-mail when Gus died from a woman who told me how proud she was of spending $16,000 on her cat’s chronic kidney disease.
“This is how much I loved her,” she said, urging me to do the same. She took out three different loans to pay for the surgeries and would, she said, be in debt for years.
For me, that would not be love. But for her, it was. I respect that other people think differently than I do, even when they can’t civilly express themselves.
I told Julie that my life speaks for me, not her, and I think my priorities are in good order regarding dogs and stewardship.
I’ve worked hard to put my life together on this farm, and my dogs are an integral, even essential, part of it. But they are not and will not ever be the only thing in my life, or even the most important.
Those are my priorities, and it is good to be reminded of them.
It took me a long while to sort it out and make up my mind. But I know how I feel.
You’re proposing a false dichotomy—the choice isn’t between spending thousands on Bud and not being able to practice your creativity at all, which is ridiculous. The choice is between limiting a diagnosis to a GP vet rather than visiting a specialist and practicing your creativity with the perfectly good cameras that you traded in, the ones that you used effectively for years. Sugar coat it all you want, but a shiny new toy is more important to you than a member of your family. (And the same people in the world were suffering when you bought the Leicas as are suffering now, but that didn’t deter you.). You are a consummate hypocrite.
Julie, I’d prefer to be a consummate hypocrite than a regular one. I should tell you that consummate is a high compliment. It means “showing a high degree of skill and flair, complete or perfect.” If I’m going to be a hypocrite, at least I’ll be the best kind, and show some flair, thanks. This is better than being a false dichotomy.
I do love my toys, as you call my cameras. I’ve never heard anyone call a Leica a “toy” before, but you have a point.
My choices are my choices, and I’ll stick with them. As a camera authority and an amateur vet, you seem to think I’m still looking for your approval or blessing. It’s almost touching. You are choosing to be obnoxious and cruel when you can. We all make our own choices.
I admire your determination, if not your manners. You are special, the last of the trolls I allow to post on my blog. I delete the others; they have all gone away to feast on the blood of other strangers.
But I’m also fascinated by trolls; they are usually clever and intuitive in a feral way and know how to strike in the most sensitive spot. I’ve often written that like Hannah Arendt, and I consider hypocrites the lowest form of human life. Julie knows this, which is why she mentions it in this odd context. For a while, this worked. I’m learning how to put the knowledge to good use. Once I understood them, they didn’t sting any more.
But just as you can’t seem to stop reading me, I can’t seem to stop posting your messages. Dancing with the devil. It’s doing something for both of us. Perhaps my therapist can figure it out.
You are my consummate troll now, Julie. Best, Jon
whatever was going on with Bud, I am relieved and very glad that he is feeling back to his normal mischievious self today! I know how very disturbing it must have been to see him in such obvious discomfort. May he remain well and happy and stay out of trouble LOL! Thank you for sharing this great news!
Susan M
I can certainly appreciate your stance.
I guess to me it somewhat depends on which dog. The best I ever had, Jack, a coonhound, died at 20 in my living room floor of natural causes-old age. No telling how far I would have gone to save him when he was younger. I did spend a few thousand in vet bills during his life. Illnesses & accidents that was very easy to justify.
I love the two I have now but would probably only spend what my wife made me.
Love to you and Maria & all the dogs.
As a human, I regret having a surgery or two that were suppose to help me but made my health worse. Surgery and medical tests are not fun. But at least I can understand what’s happening to me. An animal can’t. I made provisions in my will that I hope spares me unnecessary suffering. What I think is inhumane is putting an animal through countless tests and surgeries. Animals seem to know when they are going to the vet and they usually freak out. It’s hard to let go, but sometimes it’s a kindness for the animal.
It’s a good point WJ, animals can’t tell us what they want, so we have to be their advocates.
YAY BUD! So happy for his strong comeback. I love that Little King, but yes, I totally agree with you about everything you said about their care, vet bills, etc. Excellent article – no wonder Suzi wanted to keep it.
Thanks Charlotte…
Well, your cameras would not feel pain or despair either. Many, many years ago, my cat lived to be 27 human years old and in relatively good health until her last year with me. I am ashamed still that not wanting to let her go, caused me to put her through needless suffering. My vow was never to allow another of my animals to exist because of my needs and selfishness if they could not be helped. And sometimes the decision would be costly when they could be helped; my basset hound had a kidney removed (costly) but she lived another very healthy 10 years. That was worth it. My Aussie had kidney failure and could not be helped, at any cost. I agree with your thinking and planning on this. It’s just never easy.
Thanks Barbara, for your honesty. It is never easy or simple.
Jon, your words of wisdom are greatly appreciated! Thank you for your honesty and transparency. Many times, you say what I’m thinking….but I lack the confidence to say it out loud.
Thanks Jeanne, that is a nice message to get..
I agree with your stance on making decisions on how far you will go and how much you are able to spend on your animals before a crisis happens. My husband and I have done the same thing. We’ve had to make those heart breaking but necessary decisions with several of our animals over the past 43 years. It’s tough but for us it was the right thing to do for our beloved animals. Thank you again for sharing your life with us and I’m glad the Little King is feeling great!
Thanks Josie, you have lucky animals..
I went into debt once to try to save a dog that we had raised from a puppy. Never again.
You raise many thoughtful points that most pet owners don’t often think about.
Thank you!
Thanks Holly, we love these creatures so much its easy to get lost in it…I appreciate the good words.
Oh dear.. sugar free items usually contain xylitol (now called birch sugar on some labeling) which I am sure you know, can be deadly or cause extensive liver/kidney damage to dogs. I hope Bud is OK and that was not the problem.
Bud’s fine, Marianna, I appreciate the caution.
Oh boy, when I read this post I immediately thought about how it could stir some people up. I applaud you and Maria for A: having the hard conversations together about your animals and their care, B: sticking to the agreed-upon lengths you will go and the expenditures and C: not shaming yourselves about any of it. I have come to understand the meaning of stewardship over another – whether it’s a person or a pet. Trying to understand what’s best for them, rather than what’s best for me has been a tough journey for me. Again, thank you for sharing your journey with us.
It is crucial to talk with you vet about money. They will tell you “best “ care
But most will give an alternative if you say you cannot afford that
Vets will rarely volunteer to end an animal’s life, it’s not how they are trained.It is essential to tell them what you can do, not really just ask them. THey will respond to that. They always have options, many very expensive. People have to know what their limits are and stick with them.
Love his squishy face. So glad he’s better. So difficult when they are ill isn’t it? Magic, my hearing impaired sheltie had a grand mal seizure 9/1. Got him in for blood work, all was good there. I started him on omega 3 fish oil, which is a miracle for some dogs. Vet sent home phenobarbital, if that fails, and explained the entire scenario. I explained to her if this gets out of control, I will opt to let him slip away to doggy heaven. Not because I don’t care, but because I care a lot, he was born deaf and he doesn’t deserve a life of pain and suffering. Sometimes euthanasia is a gift. I know a lot of people do not understand that, hang in there, sometimes criticisms need to be ignored. I support your decisions. You are my favorite author, I have learned so much from your books and this blog. Kindness and love always win. Keeping pets alive when they are suffering is not in their best interest. We selfishly do that for us. It’s so difficult to let them go, but so necessary. I lost Patch, my blue girl in February to kidney failure, she wasn’t getting better, couldn’t watch her suffer any longer. Vet told me I made the right decision. Hang in there, you’re on the right path. There will always be critics. I apologize for them, you do not deserve to be attacked like that. God Bless.
So far no more seizures. Thank God.