Although the death of our pet is a shadow that hangs over us from the very day they arrive home, what to do when their days end remains a process we don't want to face and that will force us to make decisions. Photo: Archive/Adobe Stock

The Last Moment with Marle

I had never seen a dog die, but early that morning I had to travel to the city of Las Tunas for a doctor’s appointment. As I was leaving my house, I found my German Shepherd dying from poisoning. I was just a 14-year-old teenager, but I will never forget that moment.

Marle, as she was called, was lying on the side of the hallway. Almost at the entrance to my house, in my hometown of Delicias. Her breathing was slow. Her gaze pained my parents and me, who were the only ones at home at the time.

Arquímedes, my father, decided not to travel so that he could give our beloved Marle a proper burial. I didn’t stop watching her until I got into the car that took me to the city of Las Tunas.

I felt pain because I knew she was dying, and her legs were stretching out. And I couldn’t save her by giving her milk to counteract the poison.

Marle knew something was changing in her body. Her body was slowly shutting down. But her attention wasn’t on herself; it was on me.
She watched me. She followed my every move. Also she searched for my eyes. As if she wanted to make sure of something before she went.

Psychology explains it in a way that hurts. Dogs don’t think, “I’m going to die.” They think, perhaps, “Are you going to be okay?” That’s why, in their final moments, your presence is everything.

And this is where it becomes important for you: Specialists recommend three things when your dog is in its final stage:

-Don’t leave it alone. Even though it hurts, your voice and your scent calm it more than any medication.
-Talk to he/she. Your tone conveys security, even if it can no longer respond.
And above all, look at him, because many dogs leave trying to find your eyes one last time. Their brains even release oxytocin. The same oxytocin they felt when you came home.

That’s why there isn’t always pain. Sometimes there’s peace, because their life was never meant to last forever. It was meant to be with you. And in that final moment, they aren’t thinking about leaving. They’re trusting that you’ll be okay without them.

Because a dog doesn’t measure their life in years. They measure it by how much they loved you. And when they close their eyes, they aren’t saying goodbye. They’re saying, “Thank you for not leaving me alone.” Because sometimes the greatest act of love you can do is stay until the very end. When your dog’s death is natural and not as painful as my Marle’s.

If you have or have had a dog, help more people understand this before it’s too late.

And perhaps you’re wondering: why do we humans insist on living with pets and giving them all our love? This has a very simple explanation that appeals to our most primitive reasoning: human beings are gregarious animals. Just like our best friend in the animal kingdom: the dog. This means that once a pet becomes commonplace in our daily lives, we consider it part of our inner circle, that is, part of the family.

I never named another dog Marle again, nor have I had another German Shepherd like that beautiful pet. Also who brought so much joy to my teenage years in that town with the scent of salt air and the molasses of the Delicias sugar mill.

José Miguel Ávila Pérez
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