I consider myself a steward for my dogs and all of the animals who live here on the farm.

I’m closer to the dogs than I am to any of the other animals (the donkeys are pretty close), and I take seriously my responsibility to speak for them, make them comfortable, advocate for them, and protect them.

A good friend reports that she has a beloved dog who is now very old and struggling and appears close to death. She and her family talked about this and their notions of stewardship.

They decided not to bring the dog to a vet for testing, medication, and additional confusion and anxiety, not to mention the enormous cost.

If the dog shows signs of suffering and pain, they will go to their vet and have the dog euthanized. Their goal is for the dog to leave the world with love, dignity, and comfort.

They hope he dies in his sleep.

I admire them for their courage, discipline, and keen sense of what it means to be a steward. They are mindful of what their dog needs, not what they need.

Their dog is not in apparent pain and has no fatal disease. He is just getting old.

They have spoken for their dog and given him a great gift – the chance to die peacefully, not full of expensive medications, and grow bewildered and incontinent.

The story made me sit down and try to write out my own rules of stewardship.

I don’t tell other people what to think or say or feel. I do share my thoughts and feelings in the hope they may benefit others. They are always free to take it or leave it.

I respect the feelings and decisions of others and do not deride or hate people for feeling differently. I am often off-center in my ideas.

My role is to understand what a dog needs and separate it from what I need—human selfishness and narcissism harm dogs as much or more than most abusers.

Any vet will tell you so. They see dogs suffer all the time greatly because their humans won’t speak for them or let them go.

Dogs are not children and are not people. They have their own language and emotions. Those are not ours. It is demeaning and destructive to treat them like us.

In so many ways, they are better than us. There is so much to learn from them if only we could listen rather than talk.

Dogs don’t mourn for us because they don’t know what death is. They don’t live for our egos.

They may get confused, unsettled, or anxious when people die, but they do not grieve the way humans do or fear death the way we do.

We know we are going to die. They don’t. We know what sickness is. They don’t. We speak in words. They don’t.

It is almost unheard of for a dog to perish from grief when a human being close to them dies. We don’t live in Disney World; it’s a world built on fantasy.

That’s important to understand. I respect what a dog is.

I am always conscious of not projecting my emotions onto my dogs. It is not good for them or for me.

Dogs are among the most adaptable animals on earth, one of the reasons humans treat them better than any other animal in the world.  They love the people who love, feed, and care for them.

Dog love is not hard to come by. Perspective is trickier for us.

They are not made of crystal; they do not deserve to be loved to death and do not benefit from it.

They give us what we need, and we love them in return and project our own emotions and neuroses until them.

It’s almost unavoidable, but perspective keeps us grounded. Old dogs die. To love dogs is to know grief and loss. For me, it’s well worth the price.

My job as a steward is to let my dogs live the life of a dog insofar as possible.

I train them to the point that it keeps them safe and responsive and makes me comfortable; my dogs don’t need ribbons, classes, TV appearances, or play groups.

My job is to provide them with health care, food, shelter, exercise, and stimulation. I don’t need to run them ragged or make them crazy by over-stimulating them and entertaining them constantly.

For their sake, my job is to permit the dogs to enter my life and share it with me, not to dominate it or control it to extremes.

They need to respect my work, dignity, and lifestyle. That’s the contract; that’s the deal. I insist on my dignity as well as protecting theirs.

I understand that I need to be aware of my own emotions if I am to treat them fairly and well.

I don’t believe my dogs benefit from doing with me everywhere I go; I’ve never taken a dog on vacation. They don’t need it, and I don’t need it.

Dogs are cave animals. They know how to live alone for hours and hours; that is their natural habit. They also need regular exercise, attention, stimulation, and affection.

They thrive on both.

I enjoy my time away from them and believe it helps them to be calm and grounded. Dogs are creatures of routine and ritual. They don’t need me every second of their lives.

I would find that suffocating.

Above all responsibilities is the one to protect them from unnecessary or prolonged pain.

We all know the stories of the often horrible deaths we inflict on older people to funnel more and more money into a system-for-profit that cares little for them.

We don’t have to do that for dogs. We shouldn’t. Animal health care is moving in the same direction as human health care – too intrusive, too expensive, and too often cruel.

My task, like my friends, is not to let that happen to my dogs.

I have wished many times that the people I loved who got or died could die like dogs, with dignity and comfort.

As a steward, I respect that dogs are animals; all descended from killing machines.

To me, putting dogs in crates for years or all of their lives in the name of loving them is inhumane, abusive, and grossly hypocritical.

There is no more cruel or thoughtless treatment for any dog than being forced to live in a crate because there is no proper home for them and calling this humane.

Millions of unadoptable dogs are languishing in shelters.

Sometimes, that is merciful. Sometimes isn’t. I will never let that happen to one of my dogs.

Stewardship begins with working hard to find the right dog for me, my life, and my family so that he or she has the best chance to be happy.

Anyone who tells me there is only one way to get a dog is not my friend or a friend of dogs. The best way to get a dog is to do my homework and get one who is happy and makes me happy.

Shelters, good rescue groups, and good breeders are all fine for me.

Dogs are dogs, not people. They have the right to live in comfort, peace, and dignity. I have no right to prolong my dog’s life or suffering because I want to keep them with me.

My job is to let dogs be dogs and show them how to live safely and lovingly in our world. Every dog I have ever had has figured out how to enter my life and support me and comfort me, and I am bound to try to return the favor.

Congratulations to my friends for helping their dog to leave his life in peace and comfort.