There is a heartbreaking reality of life with an ageing dog. Photo / 123RF
There is a heartbreaking reality of life with an ageing dog. Photo / 123RF
OPINION:
When it comes to parenting, people with human children can be quick to dismiss people like me: those who pour their heart and soul into raising a dog.
Yet the fundamentals are the same when you're a dog dad (as I call myself) or a dog mum. Your dog is your dependant, meaning they fundamentally depend on you to live. If you don't take daily care of them, they will die and you'll be responsible.
Parents of human kids are always very quick to point out one can't just leave a child at home all day and have it look after itself. This is true for much of a dog's life. Until, that is, your dog starts ageing and might require round-the-clock care.
My dog is 11 years old. Following the "dog years" rule (one dog year is equivalent to a human seven), that makes him 77. He's a senior citizen, and like human seniors in their late 70s, health problems are part of life now.
What no dog parent is ever prepared for is just how quickly your furry friend goes from a sprightly and agile teenager to a curmudgeonly old man. For us, it has been a quick 12-month process of deterioration which has been hard to watch.
First came the white whiskers and the greying of the fur around my dog's eyes. Without my husband and I really noticing, our dog went from receiving comments about how youthful he appeared from strangers in the park, to those same strangers thinking it was appropriate to point out how old he was looking.
Being a constant witness to this kind of judgement is confronting. The strangers mean no harm or disrespect, but it's not acceptable to make negative comments about the appearance of human strangers, yet somehow it's okay with animals. Can you imagine a stranger commenting on your human child's appearance?
Every time I received such a comment, my heart sank a little. Someone had just reminded me that my time with someone I love deeply was nearing the end.
"Life with an ageing dog changes your whole lifestyle", writes Lee Suckling. Photo / Supplied
The health problems and frequent trips to the vet started soon after. A problem with my dog's ear. Then his teeth. Then his paws. Hundreds, and eventually thousands, of dollars went into clinical fees and highly-priced medication – costs that continue today and will for the rest of my dog's life.
Then came the big one. My dog suddenly went blind in one eye overnight. On its own, – the stroke-like appearance of a dropping face and glazed-over iris – was emotionally harrowing. Even my husband's dark sense of humour referring to it as the dog's "murder face" after a pre-dawn fright in a poorly lit room, still pinched a nerve.
But after another concerning round at the vet, then came the real bad news: the eye needed to be removed because it was causing pressure on my dog's skull and giving him a 24/7 headache. One he had probably had for weeks, if not months, and was unable to tell me.
Receiving this news was heartbreaking, and I went into complete shock. The same kind of shock I've been in when learning of other tragic events, like my friend dying.
What followed was a conundrum of being a dog parent. How do I tell the people in my life – my friends and colleagues – that I feel broken inside?
My dependant – and being a gay man who will never have human children, he is my kid to me – is suffering in pain and death's door is now knocking. Plus, there's the cost of the surgery ($4000) and knowing that my pup will be one-eyed for the rest of his days. Even the dark humour of a pirate-themed welcome home party didn't lessen the anguish.
I didn't tell anyone that day, because I was afraid of being judged or made to feel inferior. I had anxiety about those in my life who are parents (to humans) thinking I was stupid and oversensitive. So, I went back to my desk and suffered in silence.
Eventually I opened up to other dog parents who fully empathised with what I was going through. "He's your baby!" one said. "I would be a wreck too!"
My dog now requires continual supervision, much like a human child. I've been made aware of all the things ageing dogs are challenged with: they can become incontinent and require nappies, they dehydrate because they forget to drink, they're unable to thermoregulate (they are very susceptible to being both cold and hot), they require a strict diet, they get arthritis, they have cognitive dysfunction, they require constant monitoring and management for pain… and if you don't stay on top of these things every day, your dog will not survive.
You can't just leave them alone for eight hours at a time anymore. Like being a parent to a human child, it's exhausting when trying also to hold down a job. Especially if you have a cheeky companion who pushes his luck for early breakfast at 4am.
Life with an ageing dog changes your whole lifestyle and their health is a continual course of anxiety for dog parents. Indeed, dogs are not human children. But for many of us, they're the closest thing we're ever going to get. Like all parents, we have serious and real emotional responses to our animals. They silently witness our lives without judgment. We should never feel belittled or ashamed for experiencing them.
