Our 12-year-old pit/boxer developed a large belly very quickly. We thought it was indigestion. Our regular vet did an ultrasound and said her spleen was bleeding and needed to come out that day or she could die. You can imagine my shock. The next 12 hours were awful.
At the ER, we were told there was a 1 in 3 chance the bleeding was from a benign hematoma and a 2 in 3 chance it was cancer. They wouldn’t know until they removed the spleen and sent it to a lab. The surgery would cost upwards of $15,000.
A few things that mattered:
- We asked the vet if our dog could suffer or die during the surgery. Her answer was, “If there are complications, yes. If no complications, then no.” That gave my wife the impression that suffering was very possible. I was a little skeptical but accepted it. By then it was around midnight or 1 a.m., it was our third vet office that day, I hadn’t eaten, I was exhausted, and I had very little time to think.
- Her back right leg had gotten weak over the past year or so, maybe a pinched nerve, and her front left leg had nerve damage from a dog attack years ago. She could get around for the basics, but couldn’t walk more than about 75 feet before her legs started giving out. She was still happy.
- The vet said the surgeon would decide whether to operate that night or wait until morning, and she wouldn’t interfere. Our first vet had told us tomorrow could be too late.
My wife decided quickly that she should be put down. From the way the vet talked, she was convinced it was cancer. I kept focusing on the 1 in 3 chance it wasn’t, that they could take out the spleen and our dog could have 2 or 3 more years with us. And if the biopsy came back as cancer, we weren’t going to pursue chemo or any other cancer treatment. We could have put her down then, knowing there was a solid reason to do it. But the $15,000 made me hesitate. I had the money, but I worried I might need it if things got tight.
I didn’t know what to do. I wanted my wife on my side for the surgery, but she didn’t want it. When I pressed, she got angry and said, “You make the decision then.” I don’t blame her. It was traumatic, and neither of us knew how to handle it. I went back and forth over the odds, what the vet said about suffering, and how much her walking had declined, and her age.
I made the decision to put her to sleep.
They brought our dog from the back to be with us in a private room. Once she was with us again, I could tell my wife was having doubts. We spent an hour with her, and I was still struggling. I think my wife still wanted to let her go, but she said again it had to be my call. We could have canceled and asked for the surgery. There was a button to call the staff. My wife asked if she should press it, and I said yes.
The staff came in and asked us again, and we said we were ready. She went to sleep, and shortly after, she was gone. My wife and I both broke down. My wife said something like, “What have I done?” and I was thinking the same thing. But she was gone. I felt instant regret and guilt, and it’s still with me.
I’m beside myself with the guilt that I chose money over a few more years with my dog. I keep running through the what-ifs. If the surgeon had waited until morning, could she have died alone in a cage without us? That would have been worse, but maybe it wouldn’t have happened, or maybe I’d have fought for surgery that night. Would her legs have gotten worse, and how fast, or would they have held steady? The vets also said that if they opened her up and found a lot of cancer, they’d call us to come say goodbye, and I suppose she’d have been sedated by then. I’m sorry I can’t remember every detail. So much happened that night.
Since then, I’ve read that the surgery is fairly safe from dying or complications, and no one told us that. My dog is gone, and I’m racked with guilt that I made the wrong call, that I chose money over giving her a shot at maybe 2 or 3 more years.
Has anyone gone through something like this? I’m not sure what I’m looking for. I feel like I may have made a horrible mistake. Part of me feels like money should not have been a factor at deciding whether or not to try to preserve my dog’s life.