What living with an old dog entails

One of my podcast listeners asked me for an episode on how it feels to live with an old and sick dog,

The topic has been with me for a while, as I live with a relatively old dog myself. And I love to write. Hence the article. If you would rather listen than read, check out the podcast in the menue.

Charlie is more than 13 years old. He is still relatively fit for his age. With support from medication, acupressure, physiotherapy, nutritional supplements, etc., he still gets through his days quite well. But there are also days when things don't go quite so well.

Like today, for example.

When the shit hits the ... dog

I've had a new job for a few months now. I spend some nights there, because it's quite far away from where I live. Charlie isn't doing well there. The constant change of places stresses him out. I have to leave him alone in the office far too often. Since it is a Youth Hostel, I have to restrict his freedom of movement more than I normally would out of consideration for the guests. The many strangers, the steep stairs and the slippery floors are a huge problem for Charlie. I see all this and do my best to organize the situation differently. But a really good solution – having our own home nearby – is not in sight.

When I'm at work, Charlie often has stomach pains and diarrhea. He also suffers from cauda equina compression syndrome with a corresponding weakness in his hind legs. And so this morning, shortly after getting up and not yet fully awake, he slipped while relieving himself and literally sat in his own shit with his bottom and hind legs.

There he lay, helpless and with a troubled expression on his face. I don't know if dogs feel embarrassment. When dealing with each other, they really value social etiquette. However, when it comes to physical processes, they are probably significantly less touchy than humans. Nevertheless, the situation was likely unpleasant for him because he growled at me a little when I helped him get up.

Charlie shortly after waking up from surgery last autumn.

Holding Out

What went through my head and heart in this situation? Naturally it pains me to see him so helpless. But it wasn't so much the current situation that bothered me. It was more my head's tendency to catastrophize and imagine all sorts of even worse scenarios for the future.

The foot in the door of catastrophizing is pragmatism, a kind of practical mindfulness. I focus on the here and now and solve the immediate problem, in this case: how to get the dog clean again. The solution was a towel and a bucket of water. The rest dried to be brushed out later. So what if meanwhile the dog smells a little more.

Not that I'm not familiar with anxious helplessness when I watch Charlie in everyday life. When I notice that he can no longer hear me at a distance of 5 meters unless I speak to him very loudly, which I dislike out of principle. When I notice that he can no longer see the deer running across the field. And when sometimes he just stands there lost, as if he doesn't know how he got there or where he wants to go. When all I can do is to hold out and endure.

Being there without being able to do anything is one of the most difficult exercises in human life. We are all wired to act, solve problems and do things. But maybe it gets easier if we change this sentence a little: being there without having to do anything. Because what do we have to do if we can't do anything? Right, nothing, but endure and watch without turning away. It's not nice. It's not easy. But it means the world to the dog.

Being there and letting be there.

Holding Space

Dogs age faster than people. They become sick, incontinent, demented and helpless. Charlie is the first dog that I have the honour of accompanying through this phase and I am very grateful for the opportunity to say goodbye to him in stages. I am also grateful to be able to experience how much an old and sick dog needs his human. I can hold a space for him full of a loving, accepting presence that says: "It's okay, I'm here for you and I love you the way you are now."

This form of accepting love opens the heart and creates space in it for everything that is, no matter how sad, frightening or unsettling. Pushing feelings away creates a rebound effect that only makes them come back stronger and increasingly difficult to avoid. Creating space around feelings means giving them their own rhythm, so that they can leave on their own again when the time comes.

Take care of your own needs

Charlie is the center of my heart and my life. I have to include him in everything I do. That is exhausting. Especially when his needs and mine are in conflict, which is quite often the case. My compassion and responsibility for him often make me prioritize his needs. However, this poses a threat. I get resentful pretty quickly if I overstep my own boundaries too often. It doesn't matter whether I do it out of love. My body and feelings then tell me in no uncertain terms that it's enough now. The result is that I sometimes get a little uncharitable with Charlie, even though it's not his fault.

That's why it's important that you take care of your own needs. Take care of yourself so well in everyday life that you can go beyond your limits every once in a while without flying off the rails. This applies to nutrition, sleep and relaxation as well as individual things. Look at typical everyday situations in which your needs and those of your dog diverge and think of creative compromises or alternatives. For example, exercise is very important to me as a way to reduce stress. Since Charlie can no longer go for long walks and only very slowly, I am actively thinking about a buggy for him and I have reactivated the crosstrainer in my living room.

Where are you and your dog at cross purposes ? I'm looking forward to reading about your alternatives and creative compromises, either in the comments below or on social media.

Take good care of yourself an your dog !

Biggi