April 3, 2025

By Jim Towey

Skippy, our beloved 15- year-old dog, is running out of time.

The dog that once herded cows, chased rabbits, caught birds, barked at black bears and survived a rattlesnake bite, is on his last, wobbly legs. It is a hard thing to watch.

I know every dog owner claims to have the perfect dog but in my family’s case, we do. Skippy is a gorgeous lion trapped in the 25-pound body of a golden cavadoodle. Our five kids’ childhood memories have Skippy center stage. Now that they are adults, a visit to mom and dad begins and ends with floor time with Skippy.

But Skippy is not the Skippy of even a year ago. He is nearly deaf. His hind legs fan out when he stands on wooden floors. He has no appetite for food he once eagerly devoured. His kidneys are shot, so he guzzles water. Nearly all of his training fails him now, which is not good news for the house carpet or the neighbor’s lawn. While he has a spurt of energy from time to time, he is otherwise stodgily immobile, mostly asleep.

People say that 15 is quite old for a dog. According to my handy dog-age calculator, Skippy is somewhere between 75-93 in dog years, depending on which third of his breeding is predominant. By Florida demographic standards, he could pass for a puppy!

Is he in pain? It’s hard to tell. When his legs go sideways, he doesn’t seem to know what to do about it, but he doesn’t whimper, either. I think rattlesnake venom gave him a high tolerance for pain; on that day, the site of the bite was swollen to the size of a baseball. Skippy  miraculously powered through the experience and in no time was back in the wild killing black snakes of all sizes.

Unfortunately, Skippy doesn’t inspire fear in the animal kingdom anymore. In his prime, if a squirrel was within 50 feet of him, Skippy would soon be wearing its pelt like a Davy Crockett hat. These days, squirrels in our front yard seem to sense his decline. They don’t even scurry away when he comes out the front door.

Better off dead?

Some might look at Skippy’s rapid decline and say he would be better off dead, that he is a mere shadow of his former self, that his life isn’t worth living, that his quality of life will only get worse. I get why people put their pets down and I may do the same. But these are the very same arguments that proponents of assisted-suicide make. They ask why “veterinarian-aid-in-dying” isn’t available for physicians and their patients.

Well, it’s because we aren’t dogs or cats. Human beings are the delight of the Creator, the pinnacle of creation, endowed with a dignity that surpasses all other forms of life. Judeo-Christian tradition supports this belief, as do our present-day laws. That’s why in four out of five states, assisting in a suicide remains illegal.

Unintended consequences

Moral distinctions aside, when you set up a scheme to put humans down, you invite unintended consequences that adversely affect the disabled, very old, individuals with cognitive decline and other vulnerable people who now will feel a duty to die, to do “the decent thing” and not be a burden. If I put Skippy down, the old dog next door will not be affected by my decision or feel pressure to die quickly. But humans are different. When a patient knows a doctor may pivot from healer to terminator, trust goes on life support, and pressure rachets upward.

What’s more, veterinary medicine is different from human health care. When Skippy isn’t treated and is simply put down, private health insurance, Medicare, and hospital utilization are not impacted. That isn’t the case with humans in the ten states in the U.S. where health care providers are permitted to intentionally hasten death and save treatment dollars.

Saving money

Skippy also has no access to mental health or other social services to spare him dog day afternoons. Human beings who are depressed, despairing or dependent on others might benefit from such publicly funded services. If the government, however, wants to save money on these programs, having assisted suicide available as an inexpensive out is quite tempting and instantly gratifying. Just like with Skippy, the miserable are put out of their misery.

Of course, one may argue that humans can reason and make adult choices for themselves, while sick dogs can’t. True that. But as we see in Canada, the Netherlands and elsewhere, one person’s autonomy inevitably comes at the expense of another’s who can’t afford their disabilities or illnesses. Why is suicidal ideation justified at the end of life but not earlier?

Love him to death

Our family has decided to accompany Skippy, clean up his messes, and love him to death. We haven’t ruled out putting him to sleep if his misery becomes intense. But with humans, it’s not so simple. Who wants a “man-eats-man world” that pits the healing professionals against the weak?

Humans, after all, are a man’s best friend.

(The views expressed herein are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Aging with Dignity and/or its Board of Directors.)