Please, do not assume, because your pet is old or sick, that it wants to die! Our creatures are self-preservative and will do everything to live. However, they are instinctive about dying and will pass when it is their time. We should not kill them because we think they are “ready to go.” That is an objective assessment based on misinformation and emotional angst. We cannot subjectively know how the animal feels, and we need to realize that they are not emotional about their state of being. The humans around them are incredibly emotional and make decisions based on emotionally driven impulses. 

Many years ago, I made an impulsive decision to kill my wonderful cat, Smudge. He was 22 years old and fell off the bed one morning. Seeing that happen affected me to the point that I decided it was his “time” and I drove him to a hospital I previously owned. Everyone there knew and loved Smudge. I could not perform the procedure as we gathered in one of the exam rooms to send him on to his new adventure. One of the technicians gave him the fatal injection. I cried along with several others, and I walked out of the building feeling sad, but not remorseful, as I had made the decision as I was taught. Several years later I began to understand, in my opinion, I had been taught incorrectly, and that my impulsive decision had been wrong. Smudge should not have been killed at that time. He could have lived longer, in comfort, and chosen his own time to die. He was old, yes, and he fell off the bed due to my unwatchfulness, but he did not deserve to die because of my emotional response. Unfortunately, I can’t change that decision, but maybe in some small way, I can educate other caregivers to not make emotional decisions like I did. 

I have written several articles about rethinking euthanasia. Those articles each take a slightly different approach, and anyone reading this should also read about how we justify euthanasia, do you have to choose euthanasia, is your animal suffering, and several others. It is a worthwhile endeavor to look at euthanasia from a different perspective, to be informed about whether it is a necessary end-of-life decision. The global pet community and veterinarians look at end-of-life euthanasia as a compassionate offering, but the decision is being made by someone other than the animal. How would the creature decide? I can tell you, they want to live no matter how we humans feel about it. 

Many of the calls and inquiries I receive in regard to euthanasia involve significant concerns about the animal’s health and welfare related to advanced age or an ominous diagnosis. “I don’t want my pet to needlessly suffer”, “My pet’s quality of life is not good”, “I can tell my pet is ready to go,” and “I don’t want to be selfish and keep my pet around for me”, are universally used in my world for people to tell me they need to make an appointment for me to come and take their animal’s life. I am careful to determine the actual reason for the call as I probe them about what is specifically going on with their pet. In the greater majority of these cases, I am able to offer conservative suggestions that will prolong their pet’s life. In my view, the goal of every veterinarian should be to prolong the animal’s life, but that is a rarity. Euthanasia has become a treatment instead of the very last resort it should be. 

To reiterate: Your pet is not “ready to go.” It is you who may be ready for your pet to die, no matter how sad it makes you feel or how difficult the decision is to make. If you were not ready, I believe you would look at it differently. The main question and/or concern really is: Can you continue to care for your pet? If you are able to do so, does it make sense to take your pet’s life? If you are not able to care for your pet, then it’s important to resolve the issue of euthanasia in its totality. If you are sure (resolved) you are making the correct decision, then the guilt afterwards will be diminished. If you are not sure, then you should reconsider all the alternatives for care until you are completely resolved that euthanasia is the only alternative.

And finally, a short missive from David Attenborough: A mountain lion chose a quiet, hidden place deep in the wilderness to take his final breath. There were no signs of injury, no struggle, no distress—just stillness and silence.

It’s a natural instinct shared by many wild animals. When they sense the end is near, they often retreat far from the noise and presence of others—away from predators, people, and the chaos of the world. They seek solitude, finding a place of peace to let go, undisturbed.

Life begins and ends with a single breath—that final slow exhale as they slip gently from this world.

But perhaps it’s not an ending to mourn, but one to revere—like a sunset. Their life, once blazing like the sun, gradually softens, casting its final rays toward the sky. A quiet farewell. A peaceful passing.

In that hidden place, far from the eyes of the world, the mountain lion’s journey came full circle—not with fear or pain, but with grace. A soul returning to the wild, as silent and dignified as it lived.