A good death
 
When our beloved dogs fell gravely ill in extreme old age, we knew what we had to do. Deciding when a pet dies is a universe away from making that decision for another human being -- but a competent person ought to be able to make a decision for themselves. Published: The Vancouver Sun, July 7, 2001, Op-ed column By Deborah Jones Two dogs who shared my home for 13 years lived a dog's life and - - more to the point -- died a dog's death, which is to say, a good death. When Corrie and Mo came to live with me as roly-poly collie pups, their glossy fur was as soft as a butterfly's wing, their noses black and moist, their joy in life boundless. They approached each day assuming it would be perfect -- and so it was, no matter what, for years. Over time, their delight in leaping and running and chasing waned. They snoozed a lot. As they descended into canine old age, the years bleached their eager curiosity, their shiny coats faded, their noses, once wet black buttons, turned dry and scuffed- looking. Their inflamed and arthritic joints became so sore that only their ever-wagging tails moved with enthusiasm. They still exuded joy, but when each fell gravely ill at the extreme old age of 13, we knew what we had to do. My husband and I carried them (first the female and, months later, the male) into a veterinarian's office, laid them on a table and hugged them. They lay calm and trusting as the vet inserted a slim steel needle into a front leg. Through tears, we whispered goodbye. Seconds later their big hearts ceased, they let out an almost inaudible sigh and they were gone. They died gently, peacefully, painlessly. Watching them, I knew right away that's how I too, want to die, when I'm good and ready and if nature doesn't finish me off cleanly and quickly. Unfortunately, because I'm a human rather than a dog, it's quite likely I'll die in suffering. For religious, philosophical or emotional reasons, many people are deeply offended by euthanasia. Many won't want to read about death at all. But as our society ages, the hot-button issue is going to be how we die. Being the kind of people we North Americans are, so very in control of our lives, our careers, even our reproductive cycles, as none who came before us have ever been, we're going to demand control over our deaths. Euthanasia comes from the Greek eu, meaning well, and thanatos, meaning death. Too often -- in at least one-quarter of cases, says a friend, who was in Vancouver this week to make a presentation at the World Congress on Aging -- people do not die "good deaths" at all. Instead, too many linger in a nether world of pain and suffering because, barring a catastrophic event like an auto accident or a massive heart attack, biological cells are programmed to gamely fight for survival every second of our lives. No thanks. Give me that needle. And no, it's not enough to give me the right to refuse life-prolonging medical treatment, as we Canadians have been able to do for more than a decade. Too often removal of life support means death by dehydration, a truly obscene and cruel way to die. I expect I'll want a quick, painless exit. A few years ago such a sentiment would be unspeakable, let alone publishable. But times are changing. Earlier this year the Netherlands became the first country in the world to legalize euthanasia. In Canada, a poll released last week by Leger Marketing suggests that 57.4 per cent of Canadians would want help dying in the case of an incurable, extremely painful illness, and 76.8 per cent of British Columbians believe people should not be prosecuted if they help end the life of a loved one suffering from an incurable and painful illness. Winnipeg ethicist Arthur Schafer notes that when Canadian doctors hasten the death of a suffering patient (as doctors do, every day of the year), they have to do so in a clandestine manner, or, possibly, face charges. In the Netherlands, says Schafer, patients and doctors alike are protected by "openness, accountability and transparency, all of which are likely to diminish the instances of abuse." Critics object that euthanasia is meddling with nature, the will of a God, fate. All true. But the fact is, we are meddlesome creatures. Left to nature, without interventions like vaccines and antibiotics and basic public health measures, most of us would die before our 30s. I'm not going to delve far into philosophical or religious arguments today; others can ponder them into the wee hours of many, many nights to come. I'm not even going to venture an opinion, quite yet, on how we go about drafting laws that will allow people to make euthanasia decisions on behalf of others. Deciding when a pet dies, as I did, is a universe away from making that decision for another human being. But I absolutely believe a competent person ought to be able to make a decision to be euthanized, either at the time of death or beforehand with a "living will." The law says someone can help a person to have an abortion. Someone can marry another, or grant a divorce. Someone can pierce or tattoo or perform cosmetic surgery on another. It seems absurd to insist that, when I'm finished with my body, someone cannot legally help me to die. When my time comes, I want to follow my dogs out, with a hug from my loved ones and a last peaceful sigh. Deborah Jones is a member of The Vancouver Sun editorial board. Copyright Deborah Jones 2001 About this website: Text and photos by Deborah Jones except where otherwise noted. Please contact me for reprint rights. All material copyrighted ../About.htmlshapeimage_1_link_0
When the time comes, let me die a dog's death
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