Category: Pets

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Lap of Love brings end-of-life care to pet owners’ homes

Steven Schultz, DVM, of Lap of Love project, and owner Robyn Eckhardt with her dog Gemma during a check-up on the lawn of Eckhardt’s Lockport home on Monday, April 17, 2017.

By Anne Neville

[T]he end of a pet’s life can be difficult for the animal and for its people.

But an innovative approach to those final months, weeks or even hours is easing the way for both people and their beloved cats and dogs. Lap of Love mobile veterinary hospice care has been offered in Western New York since 2014 by a longtime Lockport veterinarian.

Dr. Steven M. Schultz provides both home hospice care for dogs and cats with any terminal diagnosis, care that can go on for months, and gentle at-home euthanasia. And Schultz said the gratitude of the people whose pets he cares for eases the burden of what could be a depressing job.

“What we are doing is so much less stressful for the pets,” said Schultz. “They’re at home, they’re relaxed, we’re relieving their pain and suffering. People, especially the elders, are so appreciative that we come to their homes, they don’t have to put their little cats in a carrier and haul them off to the vet, which is totally stressful, or try to get their big dogs into a car and get them to the vet because they can’t walk anymore.”

“End of life for our pets is a heartbreaking and extremely difficult time,” said Robyn Eckhardt of Lockport, whose 17-year-old dog, Gemma, a Lab-border collie mix, has been Schultz’s hospice patient for more than a year. “Dr. S. is the perfect vet for this. If we can help our pets go peacefully, without unnecessary stress on them – and you, which your pet can pick up on – it is better for everyone.”

The concept of veterinary hospice, which involves providing pain relief and life-improving measures for pets, rather than surgery, chemotherapy or other drastic treatments, is relatively new.

“Years ago, the concept of the human-animal bond was quite different than it is today,” said said Kathryn Jennings, executive director of the International Association of Animal Hospice and Palliative Care, a nonprofit that was founded nine years ago in Chicago. “Today, people are doing more for their pets when it comes to diagnosis and treatment. So when we’re looking at end-of-life, people also want to have more services available.”

Schultz dealt with many animal health issues that sometimes included serious illness and death at Countryside Veterinary Clinic in Lockport, which he operated for almost 30 years before selling the practice in 2012.

“By sheer coincidence,” he said, he and his wife, Sara, who have three adult children, sold their house at the same time. “So I said, let’s go out on the road,” he said.

During their travels, including a stay in the Virgin Islands and Texas, Schultz learned about two young veterinarians in the Tampa area, Dani McVety and Mary Gardner, who had started a hospice and in-home euthanasia practice called Lap of Love. “I said, ‘We could really use something like that in the Buffalo area,’ ” he said.

In 2014, after returning to Western New York, Schultz opened the local branch of Lap of Love, becoming the first in New York State to offer the group’s specialized services.

Schultz began reaching out to other local veterinarians to inform them of his new specialty. “Because I’ve been in this area for so long, I know most of the veterinarians, so I got a lot of referrals,” he said.

Lap of Love provides guidelines, Schultz said, “which are good for new or younger veterinarians,” but as an experienced veterinarian he has his own time-tested care protocols.

Schultz’s practice accepts two kinds of referrals, he said. The first is for dogs and cats that “have a terminal diagnosis of some sort, which could be cancer, heart disease, kidney failure – those types of things that aren’t going to be cured, most likely,” he said. These animals are generally older and their owners have decided not to pursue expensive surgeries, invasive tests or chemotherapy, he said. “That’s where hospice takes over and we just try to keep them as comfortable as we can, as long as their quality of life is good.”

Schultz usually receives a records transfer from the animal’s regular veterinarian, as well as any specialists. Schultz also examines the animal and talks with the owner, then provides his opinion on what steps should be taken to preserve the pet’s quality of life, and how to recognize when it is time to consider euthanasia.

“A lot of people wonder when is the right time to let go,” he said. “We go through all the things that make up quality of life, we go through questions and answers. As long as their quality of life is pretty good, we’ll keep going, but if it changes, we talk about peaceful euthanasia. How is their hydration, are they eating, are they able to keep themselves clean, how is their mobility, are they having more good days than bad days?”

More than 400 veterinary practitioners belong to the International Association of Animal Hospice and Palliative Care, said Jennings, although there are certainly more veterinarians providing mobile and hospice care. But membership “is on the rise, big time,” she said.

“If a pet had a chronic illness, years ago, veterinarians might suggest euthanasia, but today we have many more options,” she said. “Pet families are willing to do more for their pets, based on the fact that there is more availability in health care.”

Depending on the pet’s needs, Schultz may prescribe appropriate animal or human medication, as well as home-prepared food or prescription diets.

Anne Banas, of Clarence, has a unique perspective on end-of-life issues: She is a physician with Hospice Buffalo. “I’ve learned that knowing time is short can be a blessing,” she said. “Death is a natural part of life, and it doesn’t always have to be a medical emergency. When we know that time is short, we can focus on making the best of the time we have, and we can plan for a good death.”

In August, the Banas family was devastated by the death of feline Charlie, 16, who hid the symptoms of a lung tumor until it was a medical emergency. “It broke my heart that my 10-year-old daughter did not get the chance to say goodbye to her lifelong friend,” said Banas.

The family’s gray-and-brown-striped tiger cat, Daphne, is almost 15 and is living with either inflammatory bowel disease or lymphoma. “Pursuing diagnosis and treatment would not have changed her outcome in a way that justified the burden and distress,” said Banas.

“Dr. Steve is exactly what we needed,” said Banas. “He focuses solely on Daphne’s comfort and quality of life.”

When Daphne first became ill, the family had to drive her to the vet for injections of anti-nausea medication and steroids, Banas said. “Dr. Steve has been able to offer us options to treat her symptoms at home, avoiding the distress of car rides,” she said. “For now, she tolerates her medications well, and she seems to be quite happy.”

Banas said, “We don’t know how much time we have left with Daphne, but we take comfort in knowing that, with Dr. Steve’s help, we can keep her comfortable at home, and when it’s time, she can pass peacefully at home in our arms.”

Another part of hospice care is emotional support for the grieving pet owner, who, unlike those who lose a human companion, may be belittled for an emotional reaction. “This has been a disenfranchised grief in our society, at the end of a pet’s life and after the loss of a pet,” said Jennings. “Part of the concept of hospice is not only care for the patient, but also the concept of being able to offer compassion and support for the family and what they’re going through as well. And they want that.”

Robyn Eckhardt shares a moment with 17-year-old Gemma, who has seizures and is under the care of Dr. Steven Schultz through his Lap of Love practice.

Eckhardt said Schultz “was my dogs’ regular vet before he retired from his practice. I trust him implicitly.” When she heard that his new practice was offering hospice care, she said, “I was extremely relieved and happy … The thought of having to take Gemma, transport her to the vet’s office and have her last life experience be of stress, fear and in a cold, clinical environment is not something I want for her. I want her to be home, where she’s lived and been loved all her years.”

About a year ago, Schultz visited the Buffalo home of Laurie Reagan to euthanize 13-year-old Chloe, a Lab-cattle dog mix who was suffering from lymphoma. “She had always been very nervous and stressed-out at the vet,” said Reagan, “so I thought this would be a great alternative.”

Although Chloe had not been in hospice care, Reagan knew the end was near. “I had to carry her in the final few days, I had to hand-feed her, I couldn’t see her continuing through this process,” said Reagan. “I called my own vet to see if they offered a house-call visit, and they said no, but there was a service locally.”

The euthanasia visit was as peaceful as she had hoped, Reagan said. “It was amazing. He was very calm and quiet and I had set up a blanket, to make her comfortable.”

Although saying goodbye to a beloved animal is difficult, Reagan said she was comforted by the visit. “He was so sympathetic and kind, and understanding and empathetic about an owner going through this,” she said. “I would absolutely recommend this service, and I did, to a friend of mine in a similar situation. And I would do it again.”

The euthanasia is a gentle two-step process that begins when Schultz sedates the pet deeply. Afterward, he said, “a lot of people like to make their own arrangements, which could mean a lot of things, from burying them in their backyards to taking them to the SPCA, to taking them themselves to one of the pet crematories,” said Schultz. “If I take care of it for them, which does make it easier for the pet owner, I arrange for either a private cremation, which can be somewhat expensive, or a communal cremation, which can be less expensive. We use the same crematory services any veterinarian can offer.”

Complete Article HERE!

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Things I Wish I Had Known When My Dog Died

By JEN A. MILLER

[O]n Jan. 4, 11 years and 26 days after I walked out of an animal shelter in New Jersey with a little white and brown dog attached to the end of a brand-new leash, she died. On this day, an undiagnosed tumor pressed down on Emily’s brain and told her that she needed to escape, which made her usually soft, cuddly and often napping body go wild, endangering herself and me. The humane thing to do was put her down.

I don’t think anything could have prepared me for that moment, or the searing grief that followed. But if I could go back in time to console myself, I would tell myself these six things:

Most people will say the wrong thing. They will talk about dogs they knew and loved and put down, too, or, if they haven’t walked through this long, lonely tunnel yet, about how they can’t possibly imagine losing their very alive pet, which reminds you that yours is dead. They will also ask how old she was, and when you say 15, they will say, “Well, it was a good long life,” as if the ending of it would be less painful because of how long you were together.

They may tell you other dog death stories, too, like the one about the dog who was so excited to be home from vacation that he bolted out of the car and was immediately run over while the whole family watched — stories that imply it could have been worse. They will shove shelter listings for other Jack Russell terriers at you, as if another dog could slip into that perfect little spot left by your beloved one-of-a-kind pet.

Guilt overwhelms. I still tell myself that I killed Emily, despite the veterinarian telling me, after her body had been taken away, while I gripped both a counter and a vet tech to keep from collapsing, that all four of her paws had been bloodied as she had clawed at the floor, the door and the ground during her manic and desperate attempt to get away from my home. There is guilt, too, over the relief of no longer having to take care of a dog who was on multiple medications and who had arthritis, two defective heart valves and pulmonary hypertension.

You will become unmoored. I adopted Emily soon after I became a freelance writer, and I wrote three books with her by my side. She was the metronome to my life. With her gone, I floated through a space she no longer occupied but haunted with every little white hair found on my blankets, on the floor, in my shoes. Once, in the first week following her death, I came up from the basement and looked at the spot where she would usually be waiting. I called for her with the foolish notion that she’d appear at the top of the stairs. But of course, no: just another sledgehammer reminder that she was really gone.

Grief is exhausting. Last fall, I ran two marathons and an ultramarathon. After Emily died, I couldn’t drag myself through three miles, not to mention find the energy to get out of bed, put on clothes that were not my pajamas and shower at regular intervals. I pushed off assignments because the idea of putting my fingers to the keyboard was inconceivable when Emily wasn’t sleeping on her bed in the corner of my office. These were wretched, grief-stained days, surrounded by a deafening silence.

I went back into therapy after she died and was told I was depressed, which wasn’t surprising, as I had started to slip into bed at 8:30 p.m. and not get up until half a day later. Losing a companion and your routine all at once, especially if you’re single like me, could throw anyone into a tailspin.

It will get better. You won’t want to hear it, or believe it, because the pain is so suffocating. It does ease, though, almost without you noticing it.

But still, it slaps back. This may happen at predictable moments, such as when you decide to sell her crate, and sometimes not. Soon after Emily died, I got on a plane and went to Florida to bake out the pain with all-day poolside sessions punctuated by midday drinks. It worked, somewhat, but on my last night there, my face cracked open at the World of Disney store when I saw a mug with the character Stitch that said “brave” on one side and “loyal” on the other. Only the cashier noticed that I paid with tears and snot running down my face. I then ran out of the store to stare at a lake.

These days, I get up, I brush my teeth, I write, I run. I smile now and laugh sometimes. The pain still catches me, though, and I can now more clearly see why: I loved that dog, and in giving a scared, abused, imperfect Emily a home, she loved me back, and together our lives both bloomed. The loss of that joy is why the pain is so acute — and why, at some point in the maybe not so distant future, I’ll go back to that animal shelter with a brand-new leash, and do it all over again.

Complete Article HERE!

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Why losing a dog can be harder than losing a relative or friend

Dogs are a huge part of their owners’ routines – which makes their loss even more jarring.

by

[R]ecently, my wife and I went through one of the more excruciating experiences of our lives – the euthanasia of our beloved dog, Murphy. I remember making eye contact with Murphy moments before she took her last breath – she flashed me a look that was an endearing blend of confusion and the reassurance that everyone was ok because we were both by her side.

When people who have never had a dog see their dog-owning friends mourn the loss of a pet, they probably think it’s all a bit of an overreaction; after all, it’s “just a dog.”

However, those who have loved a dog know the truth: Your own pet is never “just a dog.”

Many times, I’ve had friends guiltily confide to me that they grieved more over the loss of a dog than over the loss of friends or relatives. Research has confirmed that for most people, the loss of a dog is, in almost every way, comparable to the loss of a human loved one. Unfortunately, there’s little in our cultural playbook – no grief rituals, no obituary in the local newspaper, no religious service – to help us get through the loss of a pet, which can make us feel more than a bit embarrassed to show too much public grief over our dead dogs.

Perhaps if people realized just how strong and intense the bond is between people and their dogs, such grief would become more widely accepted. This would greatly help dog owners to integrate the death into their lives and help them move forward.

An interspecies bond like no other

What is it about dogs, exactly, that make humans bond so closely with them?

For starters, dogs have had to adapt to living with humans over the past 10,000 years. And they’ve done it very well: They’re the only animal to have evolved specifically to be our companions and friends. Anthropologist Brian Hare has developed the “Domestication Hypothesis” to explain how dogs morphed from their grey wolf ancestors into the socially skilled animals that we now interact with in very much the same way as we interact with other people.

Perhaps one reason our relationships with dogs can be even more satisfying than our human relationships is that dogs provide us with such unconditional, uncritical positive feedback. (As the old saying goes, “May I become the kind of person that my dog thinks I already am.”)

This is no accident. They have been selectively bred through generations to pay attention to people, and MRI scans show that dog brains respond to praise from their owners just as strongly as they do to food (and for some dogs, praise is an even more effective incentive than food). Dogs recognize people and can learn to interpret human emotional states from facial expression alone. Scientific studies also indicate that dogs can understand human intentions, try to help their owners and even avoid people who don’t cooperate with their owners or treat them well.

Not surprisingly, humans respond positively to such unrequited affection, assistance and loyalty. Just looking at dogs can make people smile. Dog owners score higher on measures of well-being and they are happier, on average, than people who own cats or no pets at all.

Like a member of the family

Our strong attachment to dogs was subtly revealed in a recent study of “misnaming.” Misnaming happens when you call someone by the wrong name, like when parents mistakenly calls one of their kids by a sibling’s name. It turns out that the name of the family dog also gets confused with human family members, indicating that the dog’s name is being pulled from the same cognitive pool that contains other members of the family. (Curiously, the same thing rarely happens with cat names.)

It’s no wonder dog owners miss them so much when they’re gone.

Psychologist Julie Axelrod has pointed out that the loss of a dog is so painful because owners aren’t just losing the pet. It could mean the loss of a source of unconditional love, a primary companion who provides security and comfort, and maybe even a protégé that’s been mentored like a child.

The loss of a dog can also seriously disrupt an owner’s daily routine more profoundly than the loss of most friends and relatives. For owners, their daily schedules – even their vacation plans – can revolve around the needs of their pets. Changes in lifestyle and routine are some of the primary sources of stress.

According to a recent survey, many bereaved pet owners will even mistakenly interpret ambiguous sights and sounds as the movements, pants and whimpers of the deceased pet. This is most likely to happen shortly after the death of the pet, especially among owners who had very high levels of attachment to their pets.

While the death of a dog is horrible, dog owners have become so accustomed to the reassuring and nonjudgmental presence of their canine companions that, more often than not, they’ll eventually get a new one.

So yes, I miss my dog. But I’m sure that I’ll be putting myself through this ordeal again in the years to come.

Complete Article HERE!

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For first time, chimpanzee observed performing funeral rites for dead as mother cleans the body of ‘Thomas’

By Sarah Knapton

[A] chimpanzee has been filmed using tools to apparently clean the corpse of its adopted offspring, the first hint that animals other than humans may have mortuary practices.

The female, Noel, was seen at the Chimfunshi Wildlife Orphanage Trust in Zambia using a stem of grass to remove debris from the teeth of a nine-year-old male, Thomas, which she had looked after since the death of its mother four years earlier.

She was one of a number of chimps that surrounded the body for around 20 minutes, gently touching and sniffing Thomas despite offers of food to lure them away. Noel stayed on its own to clean the teeth of its adopted son, even when the others had left.

Dr. Edwin van Leeuwen, of St. Andrews University, lead author of the study, published in the journal Scientific Reports, said: “Noel approached Thomas’s body, sat down close to his head, turned her upper body sideways to select a hard piece of grass, put the grass in her mouth, and opened Thomas’ mouth with both of her hands.

Chimpanzees gather around the body of Thomas, a nine-year-old who died of pneumonia.

“Then she wrapped her fingers around Thomas’s chin and jaw, and used her thumbs to explore his teeth. After three seconds, she took the grass out of her mouth with her right hand, while maintaining focused grip on Thomas’s mouth with her left hand, and started to meticulously poke the grass in the same dental area as where her thumbs had been.

“This behaviour has never been reported in chimpanzees or any other non-human animal species. Chimpanzees may form long-lasting social bonds and like humans, may handle corpses in a socially meaningful way.”

Nina, Noel’s adolescent daughter, stayed at its mother’s side and observed the cleaning efforts.

The researchers say Noel might have been trying to understand how Thomas had died. She was seen tasting the debris she picked from his teeth. A post mortem found Thomas had most likely died from a combination of a viral and bacterial lung infection.

Complete Article HERE!

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Guidelines a great resource for end-of-life care for pets

Guidelines a great resource for end-of-life care for pets

By Dr. Henri Bianucci and Dr. Perry Jameson

It is hard not to take my (Perry Jameson) personal experiences and apply them to my work as a veterinarian. One of the most difficult times in my life was when my mom was diagnosed with metastatic renal cell carcinoma.

She was a healthy woman in her 50s who was still teaching third-graders and playing tennis. Mom developed a mild persistent cough and soreness in her hip. At first, they thought she had bronchitis and pulled a muscle playing tennis. When her symptoms did not resolve as expected, the doctors started looking further and, unfortunately, found she had a kidney tumor that had spread to her hip bones, lungs and spine.

At the time there was no effective therapy for this cancer and she progressively worsened over the next eight months. I would drive home every other weekend to help my sister and Dad, who were caring for her. As we struggled with her end-of-life care, I kept asking myself that certainly we were not the first family to face this and there must be someone out there to guide us.

Finally when her oncologist realized she was going to die soon, he recommended we get in touch with hospice. They came in and immediately were able to make her more comfortable and teach us how to do the same. Unfortunately, this was only during the final two weeks of her life.

In my practice, we deal weekly with patients who have cancer, heart failure, renal failure and other terminal illnesses. We do our best to help guide pets and their parents through this end-of-life stage. Last year, the American Animal Hospital Association, along with the International Association for Animal Hospice and Palliative Care, released guidelines to help veterinarians with end-of-life care for pets.

These guidelines were a collaboration of ideas and experiences from multiple university and private practice hospitals. As with my experience with my mom, it was a realization that we were not the only animal hospital dealing with this and we could learn from others how to help with this stage of a pet’s life.

Their first focus was to recognize that the end of life is, in fact, a stage of life. Just as juvenile, adult and senior are recognized stages, so is this final life stage. The importance of this is by recognizing earlier when a pet reaches this stage we can institute animal hospice sooner.

The authors developed the Animal Hospice Care Pyramid (http://bit.ly/2lwl55K) to display the different needs of a pet during the final stage of life. At the base are the physical needs of the patient. The middle section stresses the social needs, while the top emphasizes the emotional needs. All three areas must be considered when trying to bring quality to the end of a pet’s life.

The physical needs always seem obvious, but it is good to have a list to make sure we do not miss anything that may help them be more comfortable. These needs are pain management, control of any clinical signs (e.g. nausea), hygiene, nutrition, mobility and providing a safe environment.

Pets are social; they want to be around other family members, especially when they are not feeling well. This portion of the pyramid reminds us to ensure the pet is able to interact with its family, including other pets, and has some form of mental stimulation. When our Lab, Ariel, was near the end of her life and had difficulty walking, we put her bed in the middle of the den. This way she could watch all that was going on and we could easily interact with her.

The top of the pyramid stresses the importance of the pet’s emotional well-being. By supporting the social and physical needs most of their emotional needs will be met. Preserve their dignity by minimizing and cleaning up any house soiling as soon as possible. Pets are most comfortable with the same routine, so by keeping the same patterns you did before their illness, you will reduce their stress. Most pets are there to be our companion, so by keeping them as part of the family, you will encourage their will to live.

This guide also helps with when we make a decision about ending our pet’s life. If we can no longer meet their physical needs (comfort, they stop eating), and they withdraw from the family, then they are no longer enjoying life.

The goal is to make this final stage of our pet’s life the best it can be, but to also aid us when to say goodbye. Our pets do not live as long as we do so everyone pet parent will need these guidelines sooner or later.

Complete Article HERE!

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When You Love An Old Dog, Managing Care Can Be A Challenge

By Preeti N. Malani

The notion of dog years stems from the common belief that one year for a dog equals seven years for a human. Although canine aging is more nuanced than a simple formula, any dog lover knows that dogs’ lives pass far too quickly.

Even so, America’s 70 million dogs, like their human companions, are living longer, on average, because of better medical care and nutrition. Caring for elderly dogs can be heart-wrenching. Many pet owners struggle to understand when to pursue aggressive care and when to stop and help a beloved pet pass on.

“Older patients are the biggest challenge veterinarians face,” says Dr. Alicia Karas, an assistant professor of veterinary medicine at Tufts University. She argues for a holistic approach to older dogs, saying that “too often we focus on the affected body part or the results of an X-ray, not how an animal walks into the exam room.”

Pain tops the list of common health concerns for older dogs, with causes ranging from the routine, such as arthritis, to the more serious, such as cancer. As in humans, pain management can be complicated by other conditions. A dog with weak kidneys, for instance, may not be able to take common medicines like ibuprofen.

The benefits of a good rehabilitation program can be far-reaching. Older dogs may not make it outside for long walks, says Karas, but with rehabilitation, “three times a week the dog gets out and sees people who pet and love him.”

Older dogs, like their aging owners, may experience memory loss. “When we work up a pet for urinating in the house, we tend to focus on the kidneys, bladder and endocrine reasons,” she says. But it may be a case of “simply forgetting to go to the bathroom,” she explains. Anxiety is closely linked to impaired memory, and even minor changes in the household can be hard on older dogs.

While specialized care may seem ideal, Dr. Stephen Steep, a veterinarian in Oxford, Mich., tries to present a menu of options and to set realistic expectations of what can and can’t be done. “Here are some things you can do. If cost is not an issue, this is an option,” he says. “Here is another less aggressive option.” But the pet’s comfort is paramount, and Steep says he always considers whether or not a particular decision will improve quality of life.

When it comes to end-of-life discussions, Steep recognizes they’re inherently difficult. He likes to start with open-ended questions, noting that many owners aren’t aware of subtle changes. “How is your dog’s appetite?” he asks. “Is your dog sleeping through the night? How is he doing on long walks?”

Although Steep believes most owners understand there is a limit to their pet’s life, he feels people don’t always realize how old their pets really are. He tries to help them accept aging as a normal process, not a disease.

“People want to have dog pass away at home in their sleep, but that is rarely the case,” Steep says. “You get into a situation where the pet cannot go outside to urinate or defecate. He may be gasping for air due to heart failure or incapacitated due to memory loss.”

Still, some people just can’t let go. When Steep gets the sense that someone is pushing too hard, he tries to emphasize the pet’s comfort. “I’ll pull them into clinical activities like checking heart rates, monitoring water intake, to try and open their eyes,” Steep explains.

Most owners come to the realization that their dog is at the end of its life.

Although Karas recognizes the moral distress created by end-of-life decisions, she acknowledges the importance of euthanasia. “When I have no other options, I have a tool to alleviate suffering.”

When Andrew Shepherd’s 14-year-old English setter, Madison, developed seizures, he focused on maintaining her quality of life. Given her age and the lack of any obvious discomfort, Shepherd decided against an extensive work-up and instead focused on the dog’s symptoms, a decision their veterinarian supported.

During the following months, the seizures become more frequent, lasted longer and the dog appeared to be in pain. “She would yelp,” Shepherd recalls. “It was clearly not a pleasant experience.”

One day Madison suffered a protracted seizure while traveling in the back seat of Shepherd’s car. For him, this was the tipping point. “We couldn’t sacrifice her quality of life just to keep her around,” Shepherd explains. After that, it was about selecting the right moment to let Madison go.

Their final night together was a celebration of Madison’s life. The family comforted their dog, took pictures, shared their favorite Madison stories and made a list of all the nicknames they had for her.

Shepherd recalls crying as he took Madison to the veterinarian’s office for the last time. “Normally she hated going to the vet, but this time she didn’t fight at all,” he says. “She knew it was time.”

Complete Article HERE!

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Pets grieving over loss of another pet still open to question

By Lowcountry Paws

[F]requently people will ask me following the loss of a pet if the other pets in the home grieve as the humans do. I have always responded that, yes, I think they must even though I have no proof of this. Maybe I am assuming they respond as we do, making them little people and assuming they share/experience feelings in the same way as myself (anthropomorphism).

Last fall I was glad to read a study titled ”Owners’ perceptions of their animal’s behavioral response to the loss of an animal companion,” in the Nov. 2 online, open–access journal Animals (http://jav.ma/animalgrief).

The authors noted that it has been well documented that the impact of the loss of a pet in some people is as great as the loss of a human. Many people go through the same grieving process when a pet is gone as they do upon losing a human family member. However, research documenting the impact other pets experience when a companion animal dies is not well documented.

There is some thought that grief in humans and in animals may aid in their survival. This grief may cause the remaining animals to bond more, keeping the group together, which would increase all of their chances for survival.

An example given as a possible display of animal grief is the response of farm animals following artificial weaning. For humans to obtain milk from cows or goats, the offspring are removed from the mothers at an early age and placed on a milk replacer. This allows us to remove the milk for our own consumption. The calves will attempt to reunite with their mothers and manifest behaviors such as vocalizations, altered feeding patterns, stoppage of play behaviors, increased stress hormones and increased heart rates. The difficult thing to prove is, are the animals acting this way from the grief of separation from their mothers or is it just separation from their source of food, and it is a physical not an emotional response?

To understand if pets experienced grief, the study authors compiled a questionnaire. This was distributed through 100 veterinary clinics in Australia and New Zealand to 5,500 parents who had lost a pet within the past five years and had up to two remaining animals. The study was pretty simple and asked about changes in the following seven behaviors: feeding, sleeping, vocalization, elimination, aggression, affection, and territoriality. Of the 306 surveys returned 279 were compete enough to include in the study.

In dogs following the loss of a companion, parents reported close to five behavioral changes. Changes in affectionate behavior were common with 35 percent seeking more (26 percent being clingy/needy) and 10 percent seeking less affection.

Around 30 percent of dogs were reported to seek out and spend more time at the deceased’s favorite spot. Close to 30 percent of dogs slept more. A third of dogs were reported to eat less and at a slower rate than they had before the loss. For most dogs these behavioral changes resolved in two to six months.

For cats the loss of a companion resulted in 40 percent demanding more affection (22 percent being clingy/needy) and 15 percent seeking less affection. Owners reported 36 percent of cats seeking out the deceased favorite spot. Almost half of the cats had a change in vocalization behavior with a 43 percent increase in frequency and a 32 percent increase in the volume. As for dogs these changes in cats lasted two to six months.

An interesting finding was in the small number of pets who had lost a four- legged family member of a different species (e.g. dog losing a cat). They manifested similar behavioral changes as when the loss was of the same species.

Pet parents often ask me if the remaining pets should view the deceased’s body and I have struggled with this answer. Here I know I anthropomorphize, I routinely say no as I personally want my last memory of a deceased family member to be as they were alive, but I always leave this up to the parents.

In this study 58 percent of dogs and 42 percent of cats viewed their deceased companion. There was no difference in behaviors noted between those that viewed the deceased and those that did not. So based on this information I will continue to let Mom and Dad decide.

How do we know if the humans were not assuming the emotions they were feeling also were being shared by their pets? Were the pets acting differently because their parents were and they were not really grieving at all?

The authors conclude that further study is needed to definitively determine if and how our pets grieve. Even if they do not grieve the same as I do it is hard for me not to believe they have some type of a negative “feeling” from the loss of a companion.

Complete Article HERE!