Buffy - Crossing Over, Part 3: Quality of Life

What makes a "quality life"? A life full of joy and meaning? Free of pain? Or is it something different?

One of the questions our veterinarian had us consider was Buffy's quality of life. During the final months of her life, I felt that her life was a good life. She had good food, access to a fenced-in backyard, and a caring family. Once a day, we would take her out for a walk. Sometimes she would make it around our neighborhood; other times, she went a couple of houses down and turned around. We'd take to the park with the boys or other outings. She'd perk up when we'd be outside in other places and was eager to explore forest preserves and other areas.

Buffy slept a lot, though. She wasn't the younger dog who would bark at the boys when they would run around the house or would move from room to room to be near us. More often, she would be resting on her bed or on a sweatshirt one of my sons left on the ground.

Buffy still showed purpose and engagement in life. When certain people came into our house, she would get up and try to greet them. Whenever the boys went to play in the backyard, she wanted to join them. And Buffy continued to be part of therapy.

Ethan started therapy to address his hearing disability early in his life before he was a year old. Buffy was always present, watching, and nearby during these sessions. This continued as Lucas now has speech therapy in our house.

At a certain point in the evening, after the boys were put to bed, Buffy would decide to go up and join them. If the bedroom door were closed, we would hear her bark in protest. Sometimes this would happen before I brushed her teeth and her mane, our pre-bedtime routine. I would go to Ollie and Ethan's room and carry her out. Buffy would protest at me through disgruntled groans. After we were done, I would put her back in the room.

Every night right before I go to bed, I check on everybody. The kids are asleep, usually having gone to bed several hours earlier. First, I check on Lucas. I kiss him goodnight and reposition his blanket and pillow, as he usually lies on the bed sideways. Then I go into Ollie and Ethan's room. I kiss Ollie and Ethan goodnight and then say goodnight to Bufy.

Some nights Buffy would be lying on her bed, wedged in a small space at the foot of Ethan's bed and his dresser. It's only about a foot wide, but it's the perfect space for Buffy to have a cave. I would kiss her on her forehead and pet her on her mane, smoothing out the hair on her neck and back.

Some nights, when I entered that room, Buffy would be sitting in the middle of the room, and she would raise her head and look at me. It was like she was telling me, "It's okay; I got this."

If this was her life, did she have a good quality of life? It felt like it was, but her diagnosis made me wonder. I didn't know how I would know if her quality of life had changed, but sooner than I expected, I would know.

Next: Part 4: “I Can’t..”