When I looked at my boy Argus, he appeared to be fine. He was a 98-pound strong, handsome Greyhound who, at five years old, was just entering his prime. He had never raced on a dog track but the love of running was in him.  He seemed to have an extra gear that he could kick in when he really wanted a burst of speed.  He was so happy to run that his delight was evident to all who watched him. He could change directions 180 degrees without ever slowing down. The thought that he would not live a long life and be with me and my fiancé, Jim for many more years never entered our minds- until the day we got the diagnosis of osteosarcoma.
We were told the cancer was incurable and the risk of a tragic and painful fracture of his leg was growing with each day. We were advised to prevent him from running and to keep him out of the woods he so loved.  We were told a leg amputation could prolong his life but our beloved Argus was going to die of cancer.  He just looked so good and so healthy that it was so hard to believe!  We went to five veterinarians and two intuitive readers, We were told the same things:  His days were numbered and the end was likely to be fairly rapid and potentially excruciatingly painful.
. I am sure that many people would have considered the option of amputation and for many dogs, that would be the best choice. Some people said it would give us the opportunity to be with Argus for several more months. we were told that many dogs did well after having a leg amputated. But in our case, we considered this option but decided against it because Argus loved running. Even if he eventually adapted to running on three legs, the process of adaptation would have been miserable for him since he often would mope around the house when he could not get his daily run. His natural temperament was to be high strung and easily unnerved. 
The most profound awareness for me was that Argus was extremely sensitive to pain and to medications.  When he was sedated to examine the sarcoma, his heart rate soared to near lethal levels. Having Argus’ leg amputated might have been good for us but we felt it would only subtract from the quality of his life- a life that we were told would be tragically short in any case.  I strongly intuitively sensed that Argus would suffer more than he would gain from an amputation.  I checked this impression with two people who do intuitive readings.  They both agreed Argus had only weeks to live and that his soul was ready to go. They felt that he had accomplished what he came here to do.  One of the women said she felt that a “contract” Argus had with us was to help Jim grieve the death of his daughter. The other reader said that Lillian, our deceased Boxer, was waiting for Argus in spirit to once again run with him. That felt so good for me to hear.
We delayed making a final decision until one month later when I woke up to Argus screaming. His back legs splayed and he couldn't get up. After I helped him up he began holding up his back leg.  I knew this meant he was in a great deal of pain- much more than he was displaying. Because of their need to survive in the wild and show no vulnerability, dogs mask their pain. I could only imagine how much Argus was suffering.
As I sat with Argus giving him Reiki (hands-on healing) and feeling him intuitively, I was deeply aware that his life had become a struggle. He was in pain in spite of the medications and he no longer asked me for walks or wanted to play. As I worked with him energetically, I could actually feel him pulling away. It felt as if only a percentage of Argus was with me.  I was determined to make sure my boy did not suffer. I knew that where he was going was lovely and sweet and that he would run and play on the Other Side.
When I called the hospice veterinarian to come over, she said it was interesting that right before we called, the rest of her day had canceled so she was able to spend the day with us. She examined Argus and told us that if we didn't want his life to end in a crisis that now would be a good time to intervene. It was clear that the cancerous lesion was growing and weakening the bone. The risk of a painful break within the next few days or weeks was growing she said.
I   had been working at not falling apart in front of Argus.  I believe the hardest struggle for pets in the transition process is feeling our pain. They want to please us right to the end. When the veterinarian said now was a good time, something extraordinary happened. The shock of what she said felt like a punch to my heart. I leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. Argus came over to me and began licking me but it wasn't Argus!  It was my girl Lillian, the Boxer who had died two years prior. 
Of all the 24 dogs I have lived with, Lillian was my caretaker. I adored her. She had an intensely overpowering way of licking my mouth until I would fall over laughing hysterically. I knew she did it to make me laugh. By the time I would fall over, she was extremely worked up and the licking would get out of control. It was a behavior that only she could repeat and one of my fondest memories of her. So when Argus came right up to me that day to lick my face in a way that he had not previously done, I knew it was Lillian using his body as a vehicle to let me know she was there to take Argus to the Other Side. The timing was divine. When this occurred, I knew, in the deepest part of my heart, that it was okay to help Argus go. I was happy for him that he and Lilly would be together again running and laughing. 
The veterinarian, Jim and Squeaky our other dog and Argus’ good friend, went to the wooded area of the park so that Argus could run one last time. Once again, I had a “knowing” that his leg would hold out because he had a strong desire to run one last time. He didn’t run as hard or as long as he had without pain but he did have one last run. As he ran and sniffed, I stayed connected to his soul so that he could feel me with him. It was both sweet and sad to know my dear friend would soon be gone in a physical way. As I connected with him, I knew we would always be connected in some other way and that I would be able to be with him whenever I wanted or needed to be.
We arrived back home and set up a space to give Argus Reiki as the veterinarian prepared to sedate and then euthanize him. She explained to me that often dogs with this type of bone cancer fight euthanasia because it is central to the bone and often there is a part of the animal that feels they should live. At this point, I had two thoughts: I would be connected with him through doing Reiki and if I felt he didn't want to go, I would stop her from continuing the process. Secondly, since Lillian had come to get him earlier, he must be ready to go.
I began to give him Reiki. He was very calm. He simply felt ready to go.  There was no conflict in him.  I just held the space for him and showed him the light of love. I told him I would stay with him for as long as he needed me.  I could feel him drawing upon the Reiki energy until he peacefully passed away.  The vet said he did not fight at all.  She said he was really ready.
I believe what helped Argus have peace with his transitioning was his knowing that I was okay with him going; he didn't need to stay and take care of me, which allowed his soul to move on. It was an honor to escort him through the process. It was beautiful and divinely led. Having worked with pet owners and their pets through the stages of transition, I wanted to share his story to bring to you some helpful points when you go through this with your pets.

We don't have to wait until there's nothing left to our dear ones.  It's really okay to let them go. In the wild, most dogs don't die on their    own; other animals kill them when they become weak. So as hard as it is, sometimes we do need to intervene. 
Remember that where they go is lovely, and they don't take the pain with them.
We can connect with them to feel what is needed.  Simply sit quietly and imagine the energy from your heart flowing out to the space surrounding them and into their heart. Sit in meditation for a moment until you feel the connection.  Once you feel it, ask “What do you need? Try to keep your focus on them as if talking to a friend. Avoid going into your mind.  See if you can feel what is right for them in that moment. It is so important to know that all you have with them is that moment. During the transitioning process, things can change quickly. But remember that you only have to decide what to do in that moment. You will know when the time is right to euthanize them.
Work with a veterinarian who will answer your questions and express patience with your feelings.
Try to remember that dogs live in the moment. They don't carry a lot of baggage with reasoning or trying to figure things out. They do care about whether or not we are comfortable with letting them go.
Remember that there are practitioners like me who use energy modalities and other methods to help you and your pet during this challenging time.


           Judith Levy M.Ed , founder of Peace of Mind for Pets and People is a certified Energy Health Practitioner candidate with the Association of Comprehensive Energy Psychology as well as an Usui Reiki Master Teacher and Karuna Reiki® Master. Judith provides private sessions for individuals including Thought Field Therapy and Reiki. She has advanced degrees in behavioral psychology and education. In addition, she offers prevention and corrective programs for behavioral problems in cats and dogs, using both traditional and energy health modalities to correct such problems. Within her varied disciplines, Judith incorporates the use of the Nelson Bach Flower Essences® She offers workshops for Reiki training and instruction clinics for the correction of individual behavioral issues in pets. Visit her website at www.judithlevypetcare.com, email energyhealthpractices@live.com or call 412.521.5133.




FOR PET PEOPLE: WHEN IT’S THEIR TIME TO GO
By Judith Levy M.Ed., RMT, KRM