In July 2015, The Inquisitive Canine team supported CEO Poncho’s entrepreneurial decision to launch a few ventures in the great beyond. A philanthropic pooch through and through, he left behind a letter for his dear readers and fellow inquisitive canines, along with a three-part series from his Last Woof & Testament. In this final installment, Poncho reflects on the quality-of-life observations, veterinary guidance, and grief support that helped his family make a compassionate end-of-life decision.
Greetings, inquisitive canines and dog parents!
What follows is the most personal and difficult post I’ve ever written in my blogging career, let alone in this Great Beyond series. It’s about one of the hardest responsibilities pet parents may face: making decisions about an animal companion’s care as their life nears its end.
If you’re facing an end-of-life decision, you may go back and forth about whether it’s time to consider humane euthanasia. Uncertainty is understandable. So are tears, frustration, fear, and the wish that your animal could simply tell you what they need.
There is no perfect formula. Quality-of-life tools, observations from people who know your animal, and honest conversations with your veterinary team can help you make a thoughtful decision.
Look for Patterns, Not One Perfect Sign
People kept telling my parents, “You’ll just know.” But not everyone experiences one unmistakable moment of certainty. More often, families notice a pattern of changes over time and consider what those changes mean with help from their veterinarian.
A useful starting point is to think about your dog’s usual behavior — including some of those colorful canine habits humans occasionally describe as “annoying”:
- Pulling on leash
- Counter-surfing (or jumping up onto tables! I was good at that)
- Barking at delivery people (I was especially good at this one too!)
- Jumping up to greet someone
- Chasing after trucks (I would’ve received a gold medal for this one!)
- Nipping at people’s feet (Oh, well, this one too but we don’t need to talk about it)
These behaviors are not measures of quality of life by themselves. However, they can be part of your dog’s individual baseline. If a familiar behavior suddenly stops — and the change isn’t part of a training plan — it may signal pain, illness, weakness, or another medical concern that deserves veterinary attention.
Next, consider your dog’s daily routine and favorite activities:
- Are they still interested in playing, eating, walking, sniffing, or spending time with family?
- Can they rest and breathe comfortably?
- Are they able to move, eliminate, and keep themselves reasonably clean?
- Do they still engage with their surroundings?
- Are there more comfortable days than difficult ones?
My parents desperately wanted me to enjoy beach romps again, snuggle and play kissy-face as I always had, and maintain a healthy weight.
Like many senior dogs, I experienced several chronic physical changes. My sight and hearing declined, and kidney disease and tummy troubles became major concerns. I retained my personality and appetite for a long time, though. What can I say? I’ve always been a foodie!
Quality of life is about more than one symptom—and more than the presence or absence of obvious pain. Breathing difficulties, nausea, anxiety, impaired mobility, loss of interest, and difficulty with basic bodily functions may all matter. Severe or unrelenting pain and extreme difficulty breathing require prompt veterinary attention.
Consider Using a Quality-of-Life Tool
My parents found The Ohio State University Veterinary Medical Center’s How Will I Know? guide especially helpful.
The guide suggests identifying three to five activities your animal enjoys, tracking comfortable and difficult days on a calendar, and completing a quality-of-life worksheet regularly. It also encourages families to ask their veterinarian about available treatments, best- and worst-case scenarios, possible suffering, and prognosis.
A quality-of-life worksheet is not a test that produces one universal answer. It helps you organize what you’re observing, notice changes over time, and have a more informed conversation with your veterinary team.
My mom and dad completed an earlier version of the Ohio State worksheet about a month before choosing euthanasia for me.
“Completing the worksheet was a wake-up call because you don’t always see gradual change on your own,” my mom said. “You spend so much time trying to help your animal, constantly focusing on a ‘he’s going to get better’ mentality.”
Helpful Tip: Make the Decision Collaboratively
When appropriate, invite family members to record their observations independently and then compare what they’re seeing. People may interact with the animal at different times or notice different aspects of their comfort and behavior.
Agreement can be helpful, but perfect consensus may not always be possible. Grief, fear, caregiving roles, and individual relationships can affect how each person views the situation. Disagreement doesn’t mean anyone loves the animal less.
Your veterinarian cannot feel the relationship exactly as you do, but they can provide essential medical information about your animal’s condition, comfort, prognosis, and treatment options. End-of-life care may include palliative care, veterinary hospice, humane euthanasia, or hospice-supported natural death with effective veterinary oversight. These options should be discussed openly and without judgment with your veterinary team. The American Animal Hospital Association’s end-of-life care guidance offers a helpful overview.
About a month before my death, my specialist explained that additional treatments were available but might create more stress than benefit. She told my parents she would support a decision focused on my comfort.
My parents hoped I would somehow make the choice obvious for them. But animals cannot weigh medical options or tell us in words what burdens feel acceptable. Waiting for an unmistakable crisis may mean waiting longer than intended, which is why early conversations and ongoing planning with a veterinarian can be so valuable.
A grief professional also helped my parents explore their fear, anticipatory grief, and hopes for my final days. That emotional support complemented—but did not replace—the medical guidance provided by my veterinary team.
Paying Attention to Change
Slowly, I became less generous with kisses and stopped trying to cuddle. Whether I was conserving energy, feeling unwell, or simply withdrawing, my parents recognized that I was no longer engaging with them in the same way.
They didn’t see obvious signs of pain, but quality of life involves more than pain alone. They noticed that I sometimes looked past them rather than making eye contact. I stopped smiling and interacting as I once had, despite their lovingly tending to my every need and administering multiple medications twice a day.
When my regular veterinarian returned, my parents and veterinary team agreed that euthanasia was the most compassionate choice for me. My mom made me a tasty roasted pork chop, and my family stayed close while the veterinarian helped me die peacefully.
I couldn’t have asked for a gentler passage into the great beyond.
Important Resources: End-of-Life and Grief Support
As I mentioned in Part 1, my parents found pet loss support especially helpful before and after my death. Support from someone trained in companion-animal grief can provide space to discuss anticipatory grief, fears, questions, and the emotional weight of caregiving.
A grief professional should not make a medical decision for you. Quality-of-life concerns and euthanasia decisions should be discussed with a veterinarian familiar with your animal’s health.
The Bond Continues
I hope this three-part series has offered companionship and useful guidance to those facing anticipatory grief, an animal companion’s death, or the mourning that follows.
A relationship doesn’t stop mattering when an animal dies. The bond becomes part of the life that continues—and I’ll continue watching over all you inquisitive canines and your families as I bound through the grassy fields of the great beyond.
Remember to watch for random flying tennis balls. That will be me saying hello!
Woofs and tail wags,
Poncho
Updated August 2026.
One Response
Wonderful series. Thank you so much for writing. Certainly very helpful for one of life’s most difficult times.