[D]o I tell them beforehand that it’s coming? Should I tell them when he’s sick? Do I wait until afterward and say he ran away or went to a farm? These are all questions that parents ask when it comes to preparing to discuss with their kids about the loss of a beloved family pet.
Existing grief research supports trying to be as honest and direct with your kids as possible. But, you need to take into account their age and level of emotional development. Despite the fact that pet loss is often the first loss that children experience, there is a lack of research addressing the issue. Many pet grief support professionals utilize human loss literature. In addition, there are children’s books available (some of which are discussed in this article) that talk about pet loss in a story setting, which may be useful for helping kids cope.
My neighbor helped her son understand the death of my dog by drawing pictures of Cleo sitting on a cloud “in heaven”. Another friend sat her kids down in the final weeks before their cat Jimmy passed away and talked honesty about the fact that he was aging and getting sick, and may not live much longer. Since her kids had been through this before with previous pets, they already knew the meaning of the term “put down”.
While some euphemisms are okay to use, avoid saying “put to sleep”. Children are literal in their comprehension. If children hear that their beloved dog is going to be “put to sleep” and will never come home to be with the family again, they may fear their own bedtime, thinking that they might not see mommy or daddy again either. It is best to use very direct terms, such as “death” or “dying”.
In my friend’s case, by being open and honest with her children before the loss, she was able to include them in some of the decision-making and allow them to have time to say good-bye to their life-long buddy. While children may not decide when it is time to let a pet go, they can take part in pre-death cuddle sessions and have a chance to tell their animal companions how much they love them.
Children need the structure of setting aside time to grieve pre- and post-death, when possible, and may need more tactile ways to express their sadness over the loss.
A few tips for helping kids cope with the loss of a pet:
Include your kids in memorializing your pet. They can even help in the planning of how you will honor the lost loved one. This may mean getting out art supplies, drawing pictures of the animal, making paintings that incorporate the pet’s paw print, looking through photos, and talking about the fun memories you had with the pet.
As time goes on, as the acute emotional pain starts to dull, but the continued love for the deceased pet continues, you can talk to your kids about the lessons they learned from the pet that will continue to help and guide them throughout their lives such as love, compassion, responsibility, patience, and acceptance.
Do not use the euphemism “put to sleep,” as it may be misinterpreted.
Allow your children to grieve in their own way. They may prefer to draw, paint, or sculpt their pet out of clay, rather than talk about it.
Let yourself grieve in front of your child, even if that means crying in front of them. This may be their first experience with loss, so they may look to you to learn that they don’t need to hide their feelings.
Work together on creating a scrapbook of pictures of your pet. Talk about the memories each picture represents.
Remember, the death of a pet does not mean the end of the bond or the love. You and your children can continue to talk about and remember the wonderful times you had together.
[A]mong animal lovers, the urge to anthropomorphize our four-legged, furry, scaly, and/or winged friends is strong. We tell ourselves that dogs like hugs and that cats actually have a sense of loyalty, despite Science refuting both of these rose-tinted hopes. One area of animal behavior in which research gets even more complicated is grief.
Studies have long suggested that certain mammals may recognize and understand death on near-human levels. Elephants and primates, most notably, have been observed mourning and performing what scientists refer to as “death rituals.” That said, these same scientists are reluctant to refer to any non-human species’ response to death as “grieving” just yet. And despite the heartbreaking viral images of chimpanzee funerals, more research needs to be done on animals’ emotions before we draw any conclusions.
Of course, none of this lessens the emotional impact of what we’ve seen so far, whether it’s a mother giraffe licking her dead calf’s body or a baboon seeking comfort with the rest of her group after the death of her daughter. Because the thing is, even among humans, grief can feel like a mystery, so it’s a small comfort to see some of our own mourning processes reflected in other species.
Chimpanzees
Footage of chimpanzees mourning and even holding funerals for their deceased peers abounds. These viral moments are often used as the best proof we have that the apes grieve — but a 2010 study revealed just how profoundly death can affect a community of chimps.
The study focused on the death of an elderly female chimp known as Pansy. The researchers noticed that Pansy’s daughter and another female chimp stayed by her side and groomed her until she died. A male chimpanzee, Chippy, charged Pansy’s body multiple times before she was removed in what researchers viewed as a “final effort to elicit a sign of life,” perhaps out of “some kind of anger about the loss of an important member of the group.”
That night, Pansy’s daughter was observed shifting in her sleep a dozen times (far above the average). When the keepers took Pansy’s body away, the rest of the chimps appeared “profoundly subdued” and exhibited near-human signs of grief in the following weeks, namely having less of an appetite and avoiding the area where Pansy died.
Whales Seven different species of whales have been seen staying with their dead and even taking their bodies with them. Researchers believe these may be specific cases of mothers grieving the loss of their young.
For example, a bottlenose dolphin was found pushing another dolphin’s body through the water as it swam. The deceased dolphin was visibly rotting, and yet, when scientists in a nearby boat started to pull the body on board, the dolphin swam after it, staying near the shore after the boat came aground.
Killer whales and pilot whales were also observed carrying dead calves to keep them above water and pushing them toward boats. Other than mourning, scientists haven’t been able to find an explanation for this behavior.
Baboons
Much like humans, baboons’ stress hormones increase production in response to grief. Research from the University of Pennsylvania shows that that isn’t where the resemblance ends. In order to reduce those feelings of stress, baboons will seek out friends for comfort.
After the death of her daughter, a notably high-status, queenlike baboon known as Sylvia went to great lengths for social bonding. She was observed spending time with a group of female baboons who were considered of lower status than her — something she’d never do otherwise, reflecting her immense need for support at that time.
The researchers clarified that Sylvia’s behavior isn’t proof that baboons grieve exactly like humans, but it shows that we aren’t the only species that look for friends when we need to cope with stress.
Elephants
Barbara J. King, author of How Animals Grieve, has called elephants “the gold standard of animal-grief research,” citing two long-term projects studying their behavior.
While other species will mourn their own young, elephants come together as a larger community to share their grief. In an article for NPR, King described the emotional display from a group of elephants reacting to the death of one of their matriarchs, Eleanor.
As Eleanor lay dying, another elephant, Grace, came to her side and tried to nudge her to her feet. Grace became “visibly distressed” after Eleanor failed to stand on her own. After Eleanor died, other elephants approached her body. Some appeared merely curious, gazing and prodding at her, but others seemed profoundly upset, rocking over her and refusing to leave her. The elephants that visited Eleanor were from five different families.
Other elephant communities have been filmed seemingly paying their respects to their dead, even several weeks after their peer has died.
Biologist George Wittemyer toldNational Geographic that, as much as we’ve seen of their so-called death rituals, elephants’ responses to death remains mysterious: “Every time it happens, it’s not the same, but it is striking behavior — not based on survival or necessity, but based on some sort of emotion.”
Giraffes
Research on giraffes’ capacity for grief is nowhere near as extensive as that on elephants or primates, but one extreme demonstration of loss gave rise to the belief that this species should be considered along with other animals that appear to mourn.
In a scene published in the African Journal of Ecology, a mother giraffe was seen standing over her deceased newborn. She spent hours investigating and licking the body, hovering over it with her legs splayed out. According to BBC Nature, this behavior is anything but normal — giraffes will only splay their legs out wide if they’re eating or drinking, and they do not like being alone for extended periods of time.
At the moment, this mother’s display is one of only three documented cases of giraffes recognizing (and reacting to) death. They may not be the “gold standard” for research that elephants are, but it stands to reason that they may understand death more than we believe.
Ducks
This story also comes from Barbara J. King: Two ducks that were rescued from the same foie gras factory bonded rapidly when they were brought to a sanctuary. One of the ducks, Kohl, had been losing the ability to walk and sanctuary staff eventually decided it was best to euthanize him. The other duck, Harper, witnessed Kohl’s death, approached his body, prodded at it, and laid his head down on top of it. He stayed like that for hours.
After Kohl died, Harper was visibly more nervous around people and never seemed to bond with another duck. Two months later, he died.
This strikes us as eerily similar to the so-called “broken heart syndrome” sometimes seen in humans, but there aren’t enough Kohls and Harpers out there to know for sure if this is common among ducks.
[O]ur household had a late and unwelcome entry in the death toll of 2016. It came with Rocko, who scraped in with a departure on Friday. Granted, the death of a cat is of less moment to most than that of George Michael, and he was a celebrity only to those who knew him, but our wee furry guy managed to give us life lessons without the irritation of a life coach, and company without human complications.
His first life lesson to me was early rising. His day, and therefore mine, began with regularity at 5.30am with a gentle whisker brushed across my face, then the nudge of a cold nose if that didn’t work, then a bite to the nose if all else but mild violence failed to rouse the deliverer of his morning meal.
Once the irritation has passed that the cat alarm once again chose my side of the bed, and never the other, I was up, fed, and at work before most others, getting my stuff done, and setting up an early exit at the other end of the day. Rocko was a productivity booster devoid of mumbo-jumbo: get up early, do your work, go home.
His second lesson was to demonstrate the benefits of adequate insurance, by having no insurance. Pet insurance might sound faintly ridiculous, but having spent thousands on vet bills in the last two years, and unless you’re able to save for unknown future medical catastrophes, it’s a no-brainer. We’re now breaking even on the insured dog, but were too slow for the cat. It’s compulsory for any future pet.
Rocko the cat
His third lesson was the decision in which he took no part, but which was the right thing to do, and which is the law makes impossible for people: euthanasia.
Nearing Christmas, he became bloated, carrying lymphoma in his gut, heart disease, and a tumour on his liver. We decided to put him down, but delayed it a week or so. He didn’t make it that far, forcing the decision to euthanase after he’d collapsed at home.
I knew something bad was up when, for the first time, he didn’t shred my arms while being shoved in the cat carrier.
As he lay dying on the vet table, our sadness came tinged with relief that the law is gentle enough to allow vets to put down pets when their time has come. His suffering was exceptionally short, his end far more peaceful than we force some people to endure.
After the narrowest of defeats for a euthanasia bill in South Australia in November, the next test of whether politicians will allow people the same mercy as we afford our pets comes in Victoria later this year. The Andrews government said in December it would bring legislation to allow some dying adults to die sooner than they otherwise would.
The right will be restricted to those who have the capacity to make decisions, who are at the end of their lives because of a terminal illness. Two doctors will likely have to approve the prescription of a euthanasia drug, and patients unable to take the tablet themselves could be helped by a doctor.
It strikes the right balance between the right of the dying to avoid unnecessary pain, and protecting others from an unnecessarily hasty death. It merely adds another option for those at the end of their lives, rather than being pumped with morphine to dull the pain of a disease taking its course.
It would end that fake distinction between the legal form of hastening death known as passive euthanasia (like doctors turning off a life-support machine), and the form of hastening death known as active euthanasia (a doctor-provided pill or injection that causes death) which remains illegal across Australia even with the ardent wishes of the patient.
It’s now two days after we put Rocko down, and I am using the home computer without feline keyboard interference for the first time in years. On the screen, which I can see without having to peer around a cat head, is an e-book called Damage Done, a collection of personal essays compiled by Andrew Denton’s advocacy group, Go Gently Australia.
A short way in is an extraordinary death notice, published in The Age last year, which captures the need and urgency for voluntary euthanasia far better than I can. It speaks for itself: “Andrew Ross Carswell, a skilled musician, at times tedious intellectual, much loved friend of many, valued family member, and adored husband to Carolyne, died an unnecessarily protracted, distressing death on Sunday 13 March as a result of the continuing absence of legislation that could have otherwise allowed a man of his integrity experiencing the final stages of liver cancer peaceful, timely access to euthanasia. May he finally be able to enjoy the long sleep he had been anticipating and may the anti-euthanasia lobby collectively experience the tediously prolonged, objectionable demise they are so determined to impose on everyone else.”
[F]or a couple of hours on Dec. 10, the Phelps family felt like Christmas came a little bit early at their home in Henderson, Kentucky.
Their two Labrador Retrievers, Lil and Pixie, had given birth to two healthy litters, with Lil having her puppies just about a week shy of Pixie. When Amanda Phelps discovered Pixie had given birth, she called her family with the news and they hurried over.
But in the time it took Amanda to run back into her house to shower and come back outside, Pixie’s puppies had disappeared. It was later discovered that the Phelps’ other dog had attacked and killed Pixie’s litter.
“I was devastated,” Amanda said. “But the worst part about it was seeing Pixie so devastated. She was crying and searching everywhere for her puppies and they were gone. ”
Amanda and the rest of her family did their best to care for the remaining litter, but also try and comfort the now grieving dog that couldn’t stop walking around their property, frantically searching for her puppies. She knew in time Pixie would heal and so would the rest of the family. But on that cold Saturday afternoon, Amanda wondered how a day that started with joy could end with so much sadness.
“It was something that didn’t make any sense,” Amanda said. “But I told myself, ‘Things happen, and things happen for a reason.’ I just didn’t know what that reason was.”
Over the next 24 hours, Amanda faced her fair share of grief and tears as she cared for Pixie and the other little newborn puppies. But the Phelpses, along with another unsuspecting family, received the miracle they didn’t know they needed thanks to the help of a stranger.
Similar circumstances, different families
Little did Amanda know, over 400 miles away in a small town in northeast Ohio, another family was grieving a similar loss on the same day.
Katie and Dan Weese, along with their three sons, of North Ridgeville, Ohio were celebrating the arrival of a new litter of English Bulldog puppies from their 3-year-old bulldog, Indy. The family took Indy to their local veterinarian’s office to have the puppies delivered by C-section. Their 6-year-old son, Dylan, shot video of the birth.
“Indy was his best friend,” Katie said. “They went everywhere together. He was counting down the days until she had her puppies.”
Indy appeared to be recovering smoothly following the surgery, and was given the all-clear to go home to care for seven new puppies.
But not long after the Weeses gathered Indy’s puppies and helped them start nursing, they realized Indy had stopped breathing.
Dan started CPR, and Katie put their children in the car to rush back over to the veterinarian’s office. Dan realized before they got to their destination that Indy was dead.
“It was just so unreal,” Katie said. “It was instantaneous. One minute we were celebrating these healthy pups, the next we’re getting ready to bury our family dog.”
But the family didn’t have much time to grieve, now that they had seven hungry puppies who were motherless. Katie drove to the local pet store to buy feeding supplies while Dan stayed home to help their three sons make sense of what had just happened.
“Later that day, Dylan doubled over with what looked like a stomach ache,” Katie said. “I asked him what was wrong, all he could say was ‘I’m just so sad.’ And that was when we realized we needed to all cry and let what happened sink in. It was therapeutic. But then we knew we had to get work, because we had our work cut out for us.”
The Weese family worked around the clock to feed the puppies, but they knew this was only the beginning of a long journey. After one round of feeding was done, they had to start preparing for the next.
Later that night, Dan posted something on their Facebook page — Red, White and Bulldogs — detailing what had happened to Indy that day. Red, White and Bulldogs also has its own blog and has a large following.
“I needed to talk about what happened,” Dan said. “I needed to write about it. Writing and talking to people is what helps me grieve the most, and I wasn’t doing it to try and draw attention to the situation, but mainly to help me process the day.”
‘It felt like fate’
Meanwhile, in Horse Cave, Kentucky, Macy Grubbs was casually scrolling through his Facebook feed, seeing what his friends and family were up to. Grubbs breeds Labrador Retrievers, and the Phelpses used one of his Labradors as the sire for both Pixie and Lil — so the Phelps family was on his mind that day, knowing that Pixie had lost all of her puppies.
Grubbs, who also grew up with English Bulldogs, follows several different breeders on his feed, including Dan and Katie Weese. He stumbled across the post Dan had made about losing Indy.
He read the post about the now orphaned bulldog puppies in Ohio and asked himself, “What if?”
“I couldn’t believe it happened on the same day, it felt like fate that I had seen it,” Grubbs said. “I knew there was a grieving dog in Henderson, and these seven motherless puppies in Ohio, and if we timed it right, we could make it work.”
Grubbs thought it over, and then sent a message to Dan.
“Hey guys I am terribly sorry to hear of your loss. I want to throw an idea your way, it may or may not help. I have a lab that gave birth yesterday and she lost her pups. She is grieving and producing milk like crazy. If you’re interested it might be worth a try. If we can help let us know,” Grubbs wrote.
Both Dan and Katie read the message and were conflicted. It sounded too good to be true, but if it worked, it could be the answer both families needed this holiday season.
“I thought, ‘This is just too crazy.’ I said to Dan, ‘This family wants to give us their dog to feed our puppies. That’s kind of weird, isnt it? And I saw they were from Kentucky, and I thought that was weird too. Why would some strangers want to come to Ohio and help us?”
From Kentucky to Ohio
Dan decided to take a leap of faith and call Grubbs. After all, what else did he have to lose?
“I remember Macy answered the phone, and I immediately calmed down after hearing his gentle, Kentucky accent,” Macy laughed. “Right off the bat, he called me brother and I knew this was a man who wanted to do something out of the kindness of his heart.”
The two men made arrangements for the families to meet the next day. Grubbs and Amanda, with Pixie in tow, made the almost seven-hour drive to Ohio to see if Pixie could help the orphaned bulldogs.
After their introductions, what happened next was what all three parties described as nothing short of a Christmas miracle.
“Pixie just laid right down and started licking and cleaning those puppies like they were her own,” Amanda said. “She knew exactly what to do.”
Katie and Dan said they had no way to predict if the plan would work. Dogs can sometimes reject their own puppies, let alone adopt a litter outside of their own, Katie said.
“I think we were all just hoping and praying that this would work,” Dan said. “We had nothing to lose but everything to gain at that point.”
And gain they did. Amanda and Grubbs left Pixie with the Weese family, where she will stay for the next four to five weeks as the puppies continue to nurse and be nurtured by Pixie.
Unexpected blessings
Pixie has settled in just fine, Katie said, and has gained some new friends of her own.
“Our boys adore her,” Katie said. “They’ll take her outside and run with her through the woods. It’s going to be hard to say goodbye when she goes back to Kentucky, but I’m predicting because of this, we’ll be getting a big dog of our own in the future.”
Amanda and the rest of her family miss Pixie, she said, and are counting down the days until she makes her trip back home to Henderson. But she knows that Pixie getting her puppies back was the best, and most unexpected, miracle she could have asked for.
“We were two families mourning in the same way, but we found a way to find some hope through what happened,” Amanda said.
Grubbs said his reasoning for reaching out to the Weese family was pure instinct, and hoped that reaching out would bring comfort to not only Pixie, but the families, too.
“One of the first things Macy said to us was what he believed, which was the part of scripture that says ‘Love thy neighbor.’ And that’s what he did, he showed us love in a way we can’t repay,’” Dan said.
The Weese family got another unexpected blessing from this journey, too. Their son Dylan was adopted, and Pixie’s adoption of their seven bulldog puppies has hit closer to home then they thought.
Dylan Weese, 6, plays with Pixie.
“People keep telling us this is such a great story, but the link connecting Dylan with this story has been one of the greatest blessings out of this,” Katie said. “He keeps asking us if we can adopt Pixie, because we adopted him. And even though he knows now that it doesn’t exactly work that way, I think he understands what a blessing adoption is, because he saw Pixie do it with these puppies.”
All three families agreed that they are looking forward to the exact same thing in the next couple of weeks.
“I really just can’t wait to see this yellow lab running around, with seven chubby bulldog puppies running after her,” Katie laughed. “I think that will bring a smile to anyone who sees it.”
“Grieving an animal member of the family is likely to have many of the same features as grieving for a human member of the family,” says Jeannine Moga, a veterinary social worker specializing in human-animal relationships and grief counseling at the NC State Veterinary Hospital (VH). “We grieve deeply loving relationships, no matter what the species.”
Animals are involved in much of our daily routines — and have a special place in holiday celebrations and rituals. Sometimes, says Moga, our pets spend more time with us — and in our most private spaces — than people do.
“When this is the case, we may grieve their absence more deeply than other losses — and we will be acutely aware of who is missing,” says Moga.
But there are ways to cope. Here, Moga, who directs the Family and Community Services program at the VH, part of the College of Veterinary Medicine (CVM), offers suggested coping techniques as we enter the holiday season:
‘But I don’t want to celebrate…’
Grievers may find their feelings swinging wildly from moment to moment, day to day. It is normal to feel empty, lonely, angry, sad, exhausted and depressed – even when everyone else around you is full of joy and energy. Accept your feelings as they are, but remember that it is also OK to take a break from your grief. “Grief breaks” can actually help you to heal from your loss.
Choose your commitments carefully. Be honest with what you do — and do not — have the energy to manage and be cautious about overdoing holiday gatherings.
Avoid the urge to isolate yourself. Humans are social creatures by design. Connecting with others, particularly those who know and love you, is an important part of recovering from significant loss.
Accept your limitations. Grief is a full-body experience that demands stamina and courage, as well as a high degree of self-care. Set limits about how you will spend your free time and give yourself an exit strategy when social contact becomes overwhelming.
Finding restoration: A holiday gift to yourself
Take care of your body so your heart can heal.
Remember to eat nourishing food, get ample rest, move your body and drink plenty of water to replace the water lost through tears. Also make time for quiet reflection. Journaling, reading, prayer and mindful movement provide us with respite from the demands of both grief and the busy holiday season.
It is also important to ask for support from trusted friends and family when you need a boost or a listening ear.
Maintain connections
Grief is not about saying goodbye – it is about finding a way to relate to our departed loved ones in a different way.
Finding ways to honor and remember them, both during the holidays and all year long, allows us to maintain that connection and find comfort in their legacy. Some grievers find solace in maintaining or adapting holiday rituals to acknowledge those who have died.
For instance, lighting a candle for a deceased pet or putting at extra star at the top of the holiday tree may help us find space for those we miss. Others find it meaningful to make a donation in the honor of a beloved pet or help animals in need of love and support.
Acting with compassion is one of the most effective ways to balance out the heaviness of grief. Maintaining a connection to the true meaning of the season can also bring consolation at a time of grief. Across most cultures and faiths, this is a time for reflection, gratitude, hope and love.
When we bring to mind the blessings that come with the human-animal bond, it becomes easier to find meaning and hope during the holidays.
When Walnut the dog went on his final walk Saturday, he was far from alone.
Not only did the 18-year-old whippet have the company of his owner, Mark Woods, the pair also had the support of hundreds of people and pets who walked with them on the beach in Cornwall, southwest England, around 9:30 a.m.
On Tuesday, Woods posted about Walnut on Facebook, writing he was sad to say he planned to have the elderly dog euthanized on Saturday.
“He has had an incredible life and having reached the grand age of 18 is ready for his final sleep,” Woods wrote. The dog’s health had deteriorated over the past several months. Walnut had become too frail to stand and he needed help eating, Woods told the Cornwall Guardian.
In his Facebook post, Woods invited supporters to join him and Walnut on Walnut’s favorite walk, along Porth Beach, on the outskirts of the town of Newquay. The post went viral, and when Saturday arrived, the turn-out was overwhelming.
Hundreds of people walked with Woods and Walnut on the beach, and countless others sent messages of compassion from around the world.
Walnut and Woods were inseparable during the dog’s life, he told local news station Pirate FM. Sometimes it even may have caused issues when others didn’t understand their strong bond.
“He has always travelled around with me, all around London and he stood by the swimming pool whilst I gave diving lessons,” he said. “We’ve been in all sorts of bizarre situations together, various girlfriends who have got upset because I always put him before them. I have always put him first and maybe I shouldn’t have but he is just such a special dog.”
Woods announced on Facebook around noon on Saturday that Walnut had died. He thanked everyone for their kindness and support.
“I read out a poem that was sent to me by one of the many well wishers just before Walnut had his last sleep and would love you all to read this as well to remind ourselves just how lucky we are to be alive and to share in the wonderful world that our pets give us,” he wrote.
When you visit the zoo, you visit the animals and take pictures with them, but you never really think about what happens to them later in their lives.
Just like us, animals get older and have to be taken care of. There are several animals at the Denver Zoo that you don’t get to see when you visit because they are under special hospice care until they pass away.
The Denver Zoo has more than 4,200 animals. The majority of them live their entire lives there.
Each animal gets a monthly health screening. But as animals get older, the way zookeepers care for them changes.
“We’re really monitoring a lot of different things about their behavior, about their attitude, how well are they eating, what’s their activity level,” zoo spokesman Brian Aucone said.
Some animals are easy. Take Verde, a South American Quetzal bird. for example. The zoo retired her about 10 years ago when they thought she was getting too old. She has been living in one of the zoo staff offices ever since.
“She started having some health problems, losing her eyesight, but she is still a very healthy bird,” her keeper said.
Verde is now 31 years old and is thought to be the oldest Quetzal alive. Their average lifespan is about 20 to 25 years.
“She’s grandma,” her keeper joked. “We give her a very calm, relaxed life.”
Not every animal ages as gracefully as Verde though.
Rizzo, an 11-year-old pygmy marmoset, is about as old as her species can get.
“She’s super feisty. She’s a little old lady, but she has a lot of spunk,” associate veterinarian Betsy Stringer said.
Rizzo was showing signs of respiratory failure so she was admitted to the Denver Zoo animal hospital for treatment. She has spent many of her senior years in the hospital, hoping to fight Mother Nature with medicine.
There comes a time in every animal’s life, though, where medicine just isn’t an option.
“We love these animals from birth until death,” Stringer said. “And we care for them until their final days.”
That’s where Denver Zoo’s beloved elephant Dolly spent the end of her life. She was a patient in the zoo’s hospice care for weeks leading up to her death in September.
“I have to keep reminding myself that as I get older, they get older,” Dolly’s zookeeper Barb Junkermeier said in August. “I always want to keep them little and young, but OK, reality check. She’s getting older.”
Dolly died at the age of 52, which is about five years older than an elephant’s life expectancy. Dolly was the 10th-oldest elephant in North America.
Junkermeier worked with Dolly every day for almost 20 years. She said she could tell right away when Dolly needed end-of-life care. Dolly stopped eating normally and stopped socializing.
In hospice, the zookeepers give patients a lot more attention than the other animals. They get a lot more health screenings, medicine, supplements and treats. Zoo staff just does whatever they can to keep hospice animals as comfortable as possible.
“You just sit there and bawl for a couple days,” Junkermeier explained.
Zookeepers said taking care of a dying animal is the hardest part of the job. But they want visitors to know that they do it with passion, they do it with love, and they do it until the end.
“We are doing everything in our power to give them the best care. We never take anything lightly when it’s time to make that decision. It’s the hardest thing a zookeeper could ever do,” Junkermeier said.
As hard as it is, life is a circle. Right as one ends, another begins.
“When Whimsy was born we were all very excited to have this new gorilla in our group and she’s super fun to watch grow up,” Stringer said.
Whimsy is an 8-month-old gorilla. She is just one of several babies growing up at the zoo. One day they will have babies of their own, keeping the circle of life going forever.
According to Denver Zoo, about 30 percent of their animal population is considered geriatric.
Here are some of the oldest animals at Denver Zoo and the average life expectancy:
Natasha the snow leopard, 15 years, 4 months (14.3 years)
Rudy the eastern black rhinoceros, 23 years (18.3 years)
Groucho the Asian elephant, 45 years, 7 months (unknown)
Otto the North American river otter, 18 years, 3 months (11.9 years)
Hank the red-capped mangabey, 22 years, 10 months (17.8 years)
Tega the maned wolf, 13 years, 7 months (12.3 years)
Maude the harbor seal, 41 years, 2 months (24.1 years)
Robin the harbor seal, 37years, 6 months (24.1 years)
Dikembe the giraffe, 22 years, 7 months (13.5 years)
Kipele the giraffe, 23 years (19.5 years)
Cliff the Rocky Mountain big horn sheep, 14 years, 3 months (6.5 years)
Ridge the Dall’s sheep, 15 years, 2 months (unknown)
