ohmidog!

OK. This is just my own opinion. It’s based on the news release posted yesterday from Best Friends. They’re the organization that has done such a wonderful job of rehabilitating some of the Michael Vick dogs.

Euthanasia comes from the Greek word for “a good death.” When we consider euthanasia for a pet, we’re most often talking about an animal that’s in dire condition. Whether through accident, injury, or serious illness, our pet has come to a place where life is no longer tolerable, a place where pain and fear are all that remain. Our animals have no religion, no philosophy that can help them get through these places. They can’t find meaning in their suffering, and they can’t perceive that it will ever end. Euthanasia allows us to put an end to the eternal “now” of their pain and sickness. While it breaks our hearts, we know that it is an act of love and mercy.

If you haven’t ever been with your animal who is being “put to sleep,” I can tell you there’s not much to the process. You hold on to your pet as much as you can–petting, soothing, stroking, crooning as many words of love as you can think of. The vet starts an IV drip, so there’s a bit of  a sting for the animal. The necessary drugs are added in turn. There may be some small movements, a deep sigh, and then you become aware that the life and spirit have fled from the body, and that your old friend is at peace. Eventually you turn away, probably blinded by your tears. And the memory of those last few moments can bring the same tears back half a lifetime later.

That’s been my experience of euthanasia, the good death, for dogs I have loved.

What’s in danger of happening in North Carolina, the wholesale execution of 127 Pit Bulls, has nothing at all to do with a good death. There’s nothing good about it. While I am certain that the procedure itself will be painless and “humane,” what we are talking about here is the snuffing out of 127 strong, healthy, vigorous dogs. Sixty of them are puppies. They will never have the opportunity to share love and affection with human beings. They’ll never get to test their mettle in the peaceful pursuits at which they can excel. They won’t ever know the open sky and the green grass, the bliss of running free or the warmth of home and companionship. They’re to be terminated. Will any human being soothe and pet them in their last moments? Will anyone whisper to them that they are such good dogs? Will anyone cry for them?

I have to ask: How many more of these dogs have to die? How much more of their blood do they have to shed for us? When they’re not dying for our “sport,” we’re killing them because we’re afraid of what we’ve made them. I don’t think we should call this “euthanasia,” painless or not. I know it’s the correct medical term. But it’s really nothing but slaughter.

Can’t we please find a way to stop doing it?

Anne