Comments on Dying a Natural Death

Sometimes it feels like a tough call....but when all is said and done i feel that natural death at home is preferable for our cats and dogs.

Dr. Falconer,

Thank you for this beautiful article about dying a natural death. It meant so much to me at a very difficult time. Our beautiful 14 year old tabby cat, “Miss Kitty” was diagnosed with a serious diabetic condition. We tried the insulin but due to her age and condition, it did not help. The vet wanted to put her down but we just could not bear it because she was not vocalizing & didn’t appear to be in pain. We decided to allow her to die a natural death at home and made things as quiet and comfortable for her as possible. Towards the end, she was very weak, (not moving around a lot, and not eating or drinking and we new her time was near. We stayed with her the whole time, quietly petting and reassuring her that we loved her & that it was okay to let go. During her final few minutes she died peacefully in my arms as we gazed out at the beautiful mountains and blue sky outside our window. We loved her so very much. She was such a blessing to our family. I read an old Norse poem about pets and passing on that talked about how animals play on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge until one day, the ears perk up on one of the animals as he breaks from the pack as he runs to join his owner passing over the Rainbow Bridge. I know one day, we will see Miss Kitty there as we too, transition on. Thank you again Dr. Falconer. You are a very special man who has undoubtedly brought great joy to so many lives, animals and humans alike :)

Abundant Blessings

"if one is not in a position where they have no access to a vet, is there something that can be administered to the pet by the owner for a painless death"?
Not exactly, if you fail, you may cause more pain and suffering.
Best to consult a vet, there must be a 24 hour walk-in emergency veterinary clinic near you.
Just my 2 cents. Best of luck.

dr falconer, with all of your experience with animals, is it best to just let them die naturally and possibly give them a pain killer if they are uncomfortable, or sedate them and give them an injection? where do you generally draw the line between a pet being uncomfortable due to an approaching death and a pet which is simply TOO uncomfortable to die naturally?
if one is not in a position where they have no access to a vet, is there something that can be administered to the pet by the owner for a painless death?

This is a topic which really hits home to me right now. I have a 13 1/2 yr old who just went through a crisis. I thought we were going to lose him. He wouldn't eat or barley move. I did Reiki on him and gave some pain meds and by day 5 he started eating again :) It makes me think I have to get my ducks in a row because I don't know if my vet will come to my house and he melts down anytime he had to visit the vets. I would love for him to go peacefully at home but he has only been a vital animal for the last 4 years. Thank you for all the wonderful posts. It helps to prepare me for his time.

Thank you so much for posting a blog on such an important topic for us humans to understand. We have been so conditioned in our thinking that death is the end and we will never see our loved ones again. Over the last 10 years, two things taught me about death and confirmed we must 'die to the fear of death before we can live our Life fully'.
The first event was my shared death experience of watching (with my physical eyes) my Mom's soul (essence) leave her body. No one else in the room was able to see it. The second was experiencing the circumstances around the natural death of my beloved Norwich Terrier, Sam. Sam apparently had Pulmonary Fibrosis and within a week of becoming symptomatic he could not breath outside of his oxygen filled cage. It was so very hard to watch such an athlete (Agility Breed Champion) unable to take a breath in the outside world. That night was Christmas Eve and I prayed to our Creator asking for help to assist him in passing on his own as a Christmas gift to me. It was granted and I just know it was his way of not only saving me the anguish of making the decision for him, but letting me know he was a part of making that decision. His diagnosis was confirmed only after his death. Now his spirit visits me any time I think about him. He and Mom have taught me through constant communication in their afterlife that Love can never be lost.
I am a Lay Homeopath and have treated my dogs (I have bred Norwich for 14 years)and myself since 1999 with alternative natural medicines in the few dis-eases we have encountered. I so thank you for your blog and articles enlightening people that there is another way to approach veterinarian care that makes so much more sense by supporting our body's infinite wisdom with Natural Remedies and loving care. We need more awakened Veterinarians in this World today! I am convinced it will be happening as we see more and more people awaken.
Namaste.

Our dog Toad died quietly and quickly at home at the age of 15. It was my daughter's 25th birthday and the whole family was here for supper. Toad had been for his regular walk with our 3 other dogs that afternoon, mooched at the table, licked off some plates, visited with everyone and then wanted outside. It was Jan and very cold out so after 5 minutes I went to call him to come in. I found him laying in the snow. We brought him into the garage and laid a blanket down for him. He was my 26 year old son's dog. He wanted to rush him to the emerg vet but I told him that Toad was dying.
So we all sat with him, quietly, with our hands touching him but not interfering. His breath slowed and he relaxed and died. It was anguish to watch him taking shallow breath after shallow breath (it reminded me so much of watching my own mother do the same thing as she died of cancer) but I am happy that everyone was home that evening to say good-bye.
I held Toad in my hand the moment he took his first breath and laid my hands on him in comfort as he took his last. He died KNOWING he was loved and safe.
A dog could not ask for a better way to die.

Four weeks and two days ago early on Palm Sunday morning, my Westie Fergus passed away in my arms as I held him on our bedroom floor. Just four weeks before that he'd been diagnosed with lung cancer. We declined surgery and chemo preferring just to have him on some pain meds to keep him comfortable. He was nearly 14 years old and the tumor was HUGE. I was afraid he would die on the surgery table and I didn't want him to have any more discomfort than he already did in his last days. I knew he didn't have long and I wanted his days to be normal - with us, having play time, and pets and cuddles, sleeping on our bed. He was tail-wagging and happy, even playing up until the day before he died. Late that Saturday afternoon his breathing became extremely labored, he wouldn't eat or drink (had eaten his entire breakfast that morning) and I had to pick him up to take him outside to potty. That night as we went to bed he slept on my chest for a couple hours but then he became restless. So we put him in his bed and I laid on the floor next to his bed with my hands rubbing behind his ears - one of his favorite pets. I kept telling him not to stay for us, that it was time for him to go and that I loved him. This went for 5 or 6 hours and then at 6:34am his breathing was becoming less and less and I could feel his heart beat slowing. Right before that though, maybe 20 minutes, he had gotten out of his bed and laid on the floor next to me with his chin on my pillow. Then he laid down on his side and started to fade away. I did get to wake up my husband so he could say good bye. I held my 'Boo Bear' and rubbed his ears as he quietly and peacefully died in my arms. I was soo relieved that we didn't have to have him euthanized. I am not sure my heart could have stood it. I am so glad he went so quickly and quietly and I'm glad it was with me and our family in his home. I miss him so very much and sometimes wonder if we did the right thing, but your blog post helped to affirm that we did do right by Fergus. Thank you.

Such a beautifully written, poignant post Dr Will.
The hardest thing we do as human beings, is survive the loss of loved one.
So much emotion, and sadness that we have to deal with all at the same time, being there for our loved one to help them through their journey in dying. It's such an important process to be a part of, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
I have known two great losses in my life, my father as well as my dear sister in law.
My father passed in a hospital setting, while my sister in law was able to be in her home with the care of her family and incredible hospice care from nurses who are without a doubt,some of the most special human beings on the planet.
It is a subject often feared to be talked about, I guess because it brings so much heartache, but still, it is a part of life for all of us.
Thanks for sharing your personal story with us Dr. Will. and reminding us all that dying a natural death can be a most loving and gentle process.
When the time comes for my animals, being at home will be my choice as well.
Thank you for such a touching and beautiful post Dr. Will.

Dr. Falconer,
Thank you for sharing this part of you with us, it shows once again that you are real and simple, human qualities not often found.
As with your father, my grandfather "Lelo" as I called him passed away in his sleep a few years back. Him and I, out of the entire family shared being born on the same month "april" and since his was the 12th and mine on the 2nd he always said that I was getting older than him. He has been gone for 10 years now and the more time passes the more I closer I feel to him. Without wanting or even knowing he taught me much about what I know really matters today, and for that I am very grateful and proud of being his first grandchild.
Thank you for reminding us of the "great" teachers in our lives.

The dogs I've had as an adult have all let me know when they were ready to go. The first one was at the hospital and I felt him break his connection to me. Soon after the vet called to say it was time. The second one died at home, because the vet wouldn't believe me when I said he was dying. I was very close to him as he had been a problem dog when young and we spent many, many hours together working on that, successfully. He died way too young, probably of hemangio. His last night he wanted to stay outside in the yard alone, and he clearly did not want to have me stay with him, holding him and begging him not to die. I thanked him for his years with me and said he could go if he wanted to. I went inside and made myself leave him alone out there, and the next morning I found him dead, as I expected. My other two dogs sniffed him and one went and got his ball and dropped it in my lap as I sat there crying.
Two years later my elderly father, at almost 96, stopped eating, slowly starving himself over a 3 week period, refusing feeding tubes. I found it easier to accept his choice because of what I learned with my dogs.

In the middle of a stormy night, feeling uneasy and having a frightening thought about death .... and I found your blog, Will, and all the thoughtful replies. Perfect. Thank you.

Very nice piece, Will. I've let go three animals in my life. Each was a different place, different time, different animal and different experience. But I have never had an animal that was so well at its demise that it could pass naturally in its sleep. My first calico cat had a squamous cell carcinoma on her mouth. She was starving to death and so uncomfortable she yowled constantly. The only thing I could do was to let her go at home in my arms. My second calico cat took us on a roller coaster of ups and downs for 18 months with what I think was renal failure. It culminated in the middle of an unprecedented ice storm with projectile vomiting a thick, black, foul-smelling bile. When she could move, she was disoriented and practically walking on her hocks. All the local clinics were closed due to the weather. When I finally connected with one, my sweet kitty, who hated traveling in the car, was so ill she made not a sound on her last car ride. Due to the weather and mandatory vaccination laws, I was unable to be with Aimee in her final moments. I can only trust that her separation anxiety was brief. I gave Matisse, a good life and vowed to give him a good death. As you know, we supported him with homeopathy in his declining years, but even that was no match for the degenerative neurological condition that emerged over four years. My beautiful, bold, elegant boy gradually lost agility, mobility and finally the strength to support his own weight. He stopped eating. He was incontinent. And for the first time in his 15 years, he refused to walk with me. Thankfully, we had great support from Dr. Ray Bouloy in Cedar Park who made time for us that afternoon. He always loved riding in the car, so this was not a sad trip for him. I was more anguished than I have ever been in my life, but my dear boy had a peaceful, graceful passing. When they have no good days left and are clearly debilitated beyond any relief from pain management or homeopathy, then I believe that a humane death is only merciful. We all wish we will pass peacefully in our sleep. Few of us do.

Dr. Falconer,
Thanks so much for sharing your own personal story and Cloe's. I wish we had been more enlightened and taken our sweet Boston Chester to you long before his condition worsened to the point of there being no further loving reason to prolong his suffering. As pointed out in other comments, every animal is different. Chester always loved to go anywhere, even to the vet; so even in his pain and confusion, he willingly traveled in my son's arms to the vet who had been caring for him. When X-rays confirmed massive congestive heart failure with no resonable hope for other outcome, we decided to have him euthanized there in the doctor's office. The staff was wonderfully sympathetic and supportive, giving me and my son all the time we needed to be with him both before, during , and after the euthanasia which only took a few minutes, once begun. We took him home and buried him in the back of our property with two other dogs and a cat. It was a sad and difficult experience, but reading your blog and the comments that followed has helped me accept our decision and feel more at peace.

My condolences for the loss of your father Dr. Falconer. Losing a beloved family is never easy, no matter how peaceful their passing may be. For me, the passing of my beloved Daisy dog after 18 years was the most significant loss of my life (thankfully, my parents, siblings and other close family members are all doing fine). Daisy walked a long, winding road with me - she was my love and my constant compainion, even when she lost her teeth, her hearing, and her mind in the end. Even now, three years later, I am tearing up just thinking about it. She would wander into the room and you could tell she had no idea where she was or who we were. When she would get that lost, confused look on her face, I would just hold her and talk to her and reassure her that everything was OK. Her death was painful, tragic and difficult. In the end, she was incontinent, barely able to walk and had to be confined to bedding on the kitchen floor. She suffered. When she finally entered her end time, she had seizures and simply lost contact. My son and I rushed her to the Vet ER where, I am happy to say, some of the kindest, gentlest, caring people helped us walk her across that Rainbow Bridge. I held her in my arms while she breathed her last breathe. Fortunately, since she was a little thing, taking her home and burying her was no trouble, although I am sure that is a consideration for folks with bigger dogs.
For me, that experience was so profound that I made the decision when my other dearly beloved dog Lily grew older, I would do my best to care for her as lovingly as possible in the hopes that her death would not be so difficult or traumatic. In retrospect, I can see that I could have made the decision to release Daisy much sooner than we did. It was just a painful decision to make. Having someone nudge me along that path might have helped. Thank you so much for your insight!

I sat here reading your blog with tears in my eyes. More than one dog has crossed over in our home. Always at night, next to our bed. Not always easy.
Now I have a duck that is not well. Suddenly lost her sight and stopped eating. Still drinking though. Is she dying? I don't know, I don't think so, but I will try one more thing, and maybe, just maybe that will bring her back. I keep learning, trying. I do know that when it is her time she will go in a loving light. She will go home, as I like to say.
Thank you for sharing this wonderful story.
Blessings, kathi

Thank you so much for that post. It clarified a lot for me. I have run a hoof care clinic (non-veterinarian) in the past and from that time I have a few horses left that are in less than stellar shape. I wrestle often with the question of quality of life, but am re-thinking my own position after I read your blog.
I appreciate your sharing.

Dr. Will,
What a beautifully written and sensitive post about death. We were able to keep our parents at home, in familiar surroundings, while they were in hospice care. They slipped away quietly, peacefully, surrounded by family. We have also been able to let animal companions pass away while at home, surrounded by love and care. We believe it helped our children understand that death is a natural part of life, and does not need to be feared. Thank you for sharing your story about your Dad, and Chloe's story.
Carole

Wow, what a beautiful post! I really appreciate this topic because it's something that most people avoid thinking about. For some reason, we've been brought up to believe it's a bad thing. In some Buddhist traditions, they say the moment of death feels like a gigantic orgasm. Doesn't sound too bad to me. haha!
In former times, people would be at home with family while going through the deathing process. They would die in their beds and they would be buried on the family land. Now they take our loved one's bodies away to funeral homes where God knows what goes on. Then the families practically go bankrupt paying for a expensive metal-lined, highly polished wood, satin-lined coffin that gets lowered into a cement-lined hole in the ground in a cemetery where the dead bodies are confined, headstoned, and adorned, often with fake flowers. I guess cremation is an option, but that choice gives me the willies for some reason. I've witnessed the cremation of a Brahmin priest in Bali and it's quite a spectacle.
My giant breed dog is almost 7 and I am cherishing every moment with him. I don't know his lifespan because he was adopted at 18 months without any history. I do know that we've given him a new lease on life with Dr. Falconer's care.
I've never been a fan of euthanasia. I always felt that when my pet passed, I would rather he transition in my arms than in some strange place. And I would rather he leave at the time he chooses and not the time that I or a vet would choose. If that means wearing doggie diapers, then so be it. I know many people who've euthanized their pets because they were starting to become incontinent. It just seemed like it was more for the owners convenience than the dogs. Although it may have been exactly what both needed, I don't know. I just know the way I'd like to do it.
On the human end, I've always wanted to just be wrapped in cloth and buried on my land so the body could recycle itself back into the earth quickly. I also dreamed of having a tree planted on top that my remains could fertilize. So I started doing serious research into natural burials and they sound exactly like what I've wanted.
My dogs will be buried in our back yard and we'll plant a fruit tree over them.
Thanks again for bringing up this topic. I found myself crying as you told the story about Chloë. So touching!