Sleeping Your Dog in: When Is It Time?

As an animal magnetizer, I often get the question of people when it's time to let their dog sleep in. That's a simple question, but there's a world of sadness and despair behind it. People don't want to lose their beloved pet at all, but also don't want to wait too long and make their animal suffer. In other words, you don't want it too early, but certainly not too late.

I have a “rule” for this, which I maintain myself but also advise others. Watch your dog's eyes! When the “light” goes out, it's time. That light represents your dog's fun and zest for life. The fact that your dog is old or has a condition doesn't have to mean it's time. Pain is often a while to suppress with medication, but that light in the eyes says it all.

When I pulled Cash, my white stafford, out of the shelter, she had cancer and arthrosis, and I told her to give me a sign if she didn't need it anymore. Every night she crawled into bed against me and slept together. One night I felt something cold pushing my hand every time and woke up. Cash sat on the floor next to me pushing her nose against my hand. I tried to persuade her to lie next to me again, but she stayed seated. All of a sudden I understood. Cash had been on double pain relief for a while and if she was allowed to walk along she went through her pain and did everything that wasn't right for her, like running and jumping. the result was that she couldn't do anything for the rest of the day. I even had to lift her on the couch. Cash wanted me to know it was enough for her.

It wasn't until I told her that I understood and that I would stick to our appointment that I was allowed to lift her back to bed and she crawled against me. Because Cash had been in the shelter for quite a long time, she was pretty much familiar to the whole of the Netherlands and Belgium, and there were many people who disapproved my decision. After all, they saw a dog running and jumping in pictures. That that was 10 minutes a day, on double pain relief, and she couldn't do anything for the rest of the day, they didn't want to believe that. I was an animal executioner. Best, but 1 who listened to her dog and I never regretted that for a second.

Quinty, the dog of the photo above this blog, I pulled out of shelter when she was about 14. She had cataracts, Cushing's disease, and many tumors. Quinty soon couldn't walk long, but she enjoyed being outside so I bought her a stroller. Every day I drove to the mourn and drove her around. At some point it was the only hour a day I saw the light in her eyes, and that wasn't enough. Quinty had run out of quality of life. At the vet, she fell asleep on my lap and kissed her for the last time. That night, we buried her on the mourn where she loved to go, by the water.