Max is a 13 ½ year-old 22 pound Dachshund. He's the Alpha male of our pack of ten miniature Dachshunds. Max and Gretchen, the Alpha female, raised all the puppies, taught them appropriate pack manners, protected them and kept order and discipline among the ranks. Once, Max had a soft, smooth coat that just begged to be stroked. His wagging tail, deep brown eyes and engaging smile was so endearing, people couldn't refrain from liking him on the spot.
Max is a retired therapy dog. His face is white, and he has a grey streak running down his back. Although he's still very much the Alpha male, Max is slowing down quite a bit as he grows more elderly. One morning my husband and I noticed with dismay that Max was unable to walk and bear weight on his back legs. He wasn't paralyzed; he still had feeling in his legs and toes. But his back legs drug behind him as he tried to pull himself forward with his front legs. We rushed him immediately to his veterinarian who confirmed our worse fears; Max has degenerative disk disease, a condition all too common among long-backed dogs like Dachshunds, Bassets, and Corgis. Max was hospitalized for two days receiving large IV doses of steroids. Surgery was not an option; at his age, Max would probably die under general anesthetic; if he did survive, he faced a long, painful recovery with no guarantee that he would ever walk again. We couldn't, wouldn't put him through that. We love our dogs dearly, and would not let them suffer a slow, painful death because we couldn't bear to say good-bye. Euthanasia was always lurking in the back of our minds.
Max came home unimproved. He was on large doses of oral anti-inflammatory steroids, his only hope of recovery. Still, he didn't improve; the steroids caused severe gastric distress and he had episodes of bloody diarrhea. We were advised to take him off the steroids since the medication wasn't effective. My husband, a physician, and our vet saw no hope that Max would ever walk again.
It was time to make a decision; should we care for him as a disabled dog, or release him through euthanasia? Max had a good appetite, was able to relieve himself, chewed his favorite bones, slept well, and was generally cheerful and affectionate. He was not in pain. We decided to give Max the best quality of life possible for the time he has remaining with us. He wasn't ready to leave us, and we knew he'd let us know when that time came.
We bought Max a "wheelchair cart" specially designed to his size and breed. In the cart, his back feet were immobilized and he pulled himself along on the wheels with very little effort. Max was able to cruise around the house and go outside with the rest of the pack. He loved being mobile again and was in high spirits. The custom-made cart cost $450. This expenditure on a dog of Max's age may seem ludicrous to others; after all he's "just a dog." After being in his cart or on total bed rest for less than two weeks, my husband burst into my home office with wide eyes saying, "Max is walking!" I went to confirm this for myself; sure enough, Max could stand on all-fours and walk about three steps until he plopped back down. Each day, he grew a little stronger on his hind legs. His vet allowed him to walk on his own for five minutes twice a day, gradually increasing his walking-time. He was to be in his cart the rest of the day, or on bed rest, to avoid over-extending his weak hind legs.
Max has done the impossible. He did it without medication and without surgery. He did it because he simply would not be defeated. Max continues to make progress. He tires easily and "staggers" more than he walks. We never question our decision to keep him with us; caring for Max in his old age isn't a burden, but a pleasure.
Maybe someday you too will face difficult decisions about your disabled dog. Be aware that care for your disabled dog will be time-consuming and perhaps expensive. Don't listen to others who say he's "only a dog." Listen to yourself. Ask yourself about your dog's quality of life; if he's in pain or otherwise miserable, it's time to say farewell. But if he still enjoys life and remains cheerful and pain-free, consider letting him spend the remainder of his life with you, the one he loves most in the world.
