I behaviorally euthanized my dog 3 years ago….
*takes deep breath
Hi there, if you don’t know me I’m Em, a multi-certified dog trainer and behavior consultant and I behaviorally euthanized my soul dog 3 years ago. His name was Gus and he was one of the best and worst things to happen to me.
I’m going to be talking about my experience post-behavioral euthanasia so if you want to know more about his story you can read that here.
Over the last 3 years, I have gone through a series of emotions when it comes to Gus and it has made me realize a few things..
You can’t put a timeline on grief (this one is the most annoying tbh).
As I learn more, it gets me in my head more, causing doubts and second-guessing everything.
The weight of the grief doesn’t get any lighter and trying to avoid the feelings that come along with it only makes it hit harder.
When my partner and I said goodbye to Gus 3 years ago I felt so many different emotions. Sadness and anger were pretty strong. I felt paralyzed in these feelings for the first week. Anytime I was left alone I would panic. Everything hurt and I wanted him back but I also couldn’t imagine living another day with him in our home. Which brought along relief which then brought along a lot of guilt.
I kept thinking, “how can I be feeling relief after just euthanizing my soul dog?? I must be a horrible, f**ked up person.”
But the reality is that when you live with a dog whose life has to be heavily micromanaged to prevent him from attacking all of the other living beings in the home, it really messes you up. It messes everyone up.
Living with an unpredictable and dangerous dog had everyone walking on eggshells.
And I lived my first 23 years of life walking on eggshells because of abusive parents and I was finally supposed to be living my life for me, in a home that is safe and warm. And it wasn’t.
I was isolated, anxious, and my quality of life was deteriorating along with his. So, I chose to end everyone’s suffering and let Gus go be free from the constant torture that was living with a brain and body that weren’t made to be on this earth.
And then I gave myself a timeline for my grief. I said I would give myself 2 weeks to be sad and then I had to move on. That moving on looked like avoiding talking about him, looking at pictures of him, thinking about him, and hiding anything that belonged to him.
I didn’t know what to do with these heavy feelings so I locked them away in a box and put that box in a safe space because I have ADHD and we all know that the safe space gets forgotten immediately. So, I was good to go.
Until I wasn’t…..
The 1 year anniversary of his death came and all of those feelings I locked up and put away in a safe space broke free. But once that date passed I locked them up again and pretended everything was fine.
This cycle has repeated itself every year until I finally accepted that you can’t put a timeline on grief and that it’s okay to still feel pain and sadness. Gus and I had a bond that I will likely never experience and I will never forget that. I don’t think that should be forgotten and now I’m at a place where I want to celebrate that.
Even though his ending was not at all what I had planned for and the guilt of choosing to end his life less than a year after adopting him, it’s okay to celebrate the life I did give him because I gave him the most love and freedom he ever experienced.
Which then makes my fun, silly, sticky OCD brain start to spiral. As a behavior professional who is constantly learning, I know more now then I did when I adopted him. So that starts the cycle of what ifs…
What if he moved with us and lived in a house that was better suited for his management setup needs?
What if his unpredictable aggression was from pain? Could everything have changed if we got him on the right pain management?
Those what-ifs are great in theory. But in reality, is that moving him to a new environment would have been extremely stressful and likely would have increased his aggression. And if he was dealing with chronic pain, there would always be the chance of a flare-up that would again…increase his aggression. On top of being a dog who was already dealing with liver issues and really struggled with vet care, treatment options for him would’ve been extremely limited.
This is just a small glimpse into the reality of having to behaviorally euthanize a dog you truly love.
All of the thoughts and feelings that come with behaviorally euthanizing a dog you care about so deeply are complex, to say the least. Then add in being a neurodivergent person who feels things so deeply, it makes it physically painful.
I wouldn’t wish this experience on anyone but I know there are so many people that have gone through this and will go through this that will be left feeling so alone due to the stigma behind behavioral euthanasia.
Which is not fair.
Behavioral euthanasia is a gift we can give to dogs who are truly suffering. Mental and behavioral welfare are just as important as physical health, especially when constant fear, anxiety, and stress can greatly impact physical health.
Trust me, I know firsthand as a person with multiple chronic illnesses from growing up with constant fear, anxiety, and stress.
So, if you made it this far and read the whole thing I would like to leave you with a few takeaways….
If you have behaviorally euthanized a dog (or cat or other pet), I see you. You’re not alone and the feelings that you are feeling about it are so valid.
If you have not behaviorally euthanized a dog and are just wanting to know more about others experiences to be able to provide some compassion and empathy… thank you! The world needs more people like you.
And if you have not behaviorally euthanized a dog and feel any sort of judgment or hatred towards people that have… I would like to urge you to try and take a moment to put yourself in that person’s position and imagine what life would be like living with a dog who is suffering mentally despite trying a million and one ways to help them.
Remember, if you haven’t lived it you don’t truly know how bad it is, and saying unkind things to someone who had to make such a painful decision is not only cruel but also doesn’t change what happened.
xoxo, Em
Gus Gus Fitzpatrick
This year I chose to process my feelings through art and created this digital illustration.
He spent a lot of his life in a muzzle for safety which made decompression walks possible for him.
