Another Case for Making Sure a Dog Is Really Dead

No worries: This dog is just sleeping. (Albeit not necessarily so comfortably.) If the dog did not rouse and did not appear to be breathing, would he be assumed dead? There's a fine line, and it's imperative to know where it's drawn. (Photo from the Flickr photostream of Flickmor)

A couple of weeks ago we brought you the story of a puppy who was hit by a car and appeared to be dead, but when the distraught owner went to bury him the next day, he was very much alive. It brought up an interesting conversation in the comments and Dogster Facebook page about when dead is actually dead.

It seems even the pros can mistake an unconscious dog for a dead dog. Yesterday, firefighters in Utica, NY, found a dog who appeared to have died in a home blaze. They brought the poor dog’s body outside — but the dog did not stay “dead” for long. Once in fresh air, the dog sat up and surprised the heck out of everyone who assumed he had perished, according to WKTV.

So once again we’re faced with the question: How can you tell if your dog is really dead before burying him or sending him off for cremation? I’m finding nothing worthwhile on this online, so I’ll ask any veterinarians, vet techs, or other experts out there to please leave comments about how we can tell for sure that a dog is dead and not just unconscious — perhaps with diminished functions that make it hard to see breathing or hear a heartbeat. Are there ways, besides going to a vet to check?

Update! Minutes after posting this, I asked Dr. Eric Barchas, Dogster’s own veterinary expert, for his input on the topic and he immediately wrote back with a very helpful, insightful answer:

There are three basic tactics I use to determine whether an individual is alive. The first is to listen to the heart. This is generally the most reliable, but it cannot realistically be done by a nonprofessional (or by anyone who hasn’t listened to thousands of hearts), since it’s too easy to listen in the wrong place or to misunderstand the noises one hears. 

The second is to assess whether the animal is breathing.  This can be done by anyone, but it is important to watch carefully and be aware that very shallow breathing can be hard to see (and that agonal breathing, which occurs sometimes after death, may be mistaken for normal breathing). 

The third is to assess for rigor mortis (stiffness that occurs after death). The timing of its onset varies widely — from a few minutes after death in severely ill animals with poor circulation to many hours after death. However, once it occurs, it is a reliable sign that an individual is deceased.

The whole process is actually much more difficult than many people imagine. Remember that the tradition of holding wakes originated because it is so hard to tell whether an individual is decisively dead. Burials were postponed several days to prevent accidentally burying someone alive.

Finally, be aware that the definition of death itself is controversial. Some folks advocate for using electroencephalography or functional magnetic resonance imaging to assess brain activity as the true measure of whether an individual is alive or dead. The definition of death is not as much of a moral minefield as the definition of the start of life, but it still causes sparks to flare on occasion.

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Don’t fear the calm: Making pet sedation safer

A visit to the veterinary hospital can be a stressful thing, even on a good day. The patients are stressed, the owners are stressed, and even the doctor is stressed sometimes.  This stress gets distilled and compounded when that visit is unplanned and involves a trip to the emergency room.

The stress we see in our patients only contributes to the disease process. The stress response is good for you if you are being chased by a mountain lion or, perhaps, a rogue clown; your heart races to get more blood to your muscles, your airways become larger to get more oxygen into your system, your pupils dilate so you can take in more visual information.  The end result is you can run faster and see better and, with a little luck thrown in the mix, outrun the venomous and razor-sharp talons of the rogue clown and pass on your DNA to the next generation.

However, if you are sitting in cage recovering from being hit by a car, the stress response can work against you, or even kill you if the meridians all align in the wrong way. That same adrenaline that courses through your system to raise your heart rate also raises the amount of oxygen that your cells consume, leaving little left over for healing. The same cortisone that your glands produce to get you through a crisis can impair healing and cause blood clots to form in some very bad places (see last week’s post on blood clots for more information).

Stress also makes animals harder to handle and more unpredictable. I have seen many patients behave in new and interesting ways when they are ill or faced with a yahoo in white labcoat coming after them with a thermometer.  Pet owners are almost always shocked when their lovable lapdog becomes a snapping, snarling beast when illness or injury set in.

I am not talking here about situations where we are looking for general anesthesia, like surgery or a dental cleaning. I am talking about the routine handling of patients for relatively minor things. A bandage or cast change, small wounds that need care, or diagnostic procedures like x-rays or ultrasounds can be done quickly and safely with some sedation, but often end up being messy and dangerous power struggles with uncooperative patients.

I can’t blame them. Patients want to protect themselves, and are naturally (and understandably) resistant to having strangers like the aforementioned yahoo do things to them, especially when they don’t feel well.

In order to take some of the anxiety out of the equation and hopefully make things go a little smoother and safer for everyone involved, we often turn to sedatives to help calm them.  Technically, we use the term ‘chemical restraint’, and we have several choices to select from when we are looking for a little something to calm our patients.

The sedatives of today tend to be far safer than ones used in years past, but there are still risks, as there are with with any medication. Some of them can cause low blood pressure, some of them can actually increase anxiety (just like for some people a glass of red wine makes them sleepy, while for others it causes them to strip to their Hello Kitty boxers and start belting out Ethel Merman tunes) and some can have no effect. I have rarely encountered a problem with my sedated patients, however, and some of the newer sedatives are actually reversible, meaning that an antidote can be given in case of a problem or when the procedure is over. I think in the vast majority of cases I have helped make whatever it is we are trying to accomplish go easier with less stress to the patients, my staff and myself, but I do understand that some owners are nervous.

It seems like I encounter a little resistance when I suggest that we use sedation for someone’s pet. Properly managed and monitored, doing a procedure is safer with sedation than having to try and stress out a patient, or use excessive physical restraint.

What has been your experience with sedation for your pets? Do you feel it is overused? Unsafe? Or do you think it helps take the edge off of what has the potential to be an unpleasant experience?

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The Making of a Therapy Dog: Sisko’s Turn

Note: This post was prepared by Liz last week, before the recent tragedy that claimed her husband Paul’s life. We delayed the posting of this column until a more appropriate time. Liz asked us to go ahead and start posting her writing again. Quite frankly, we just couldn’t yet bear to edit for tense.

It was just a little more than two years ago when Archer was going through therapy dog training, and I began the series of posts titled, “The Making of a Therapy Dog.”* Archer turned out to be an awesome therapy dog and has often visited a Veterans Administration center with my husband, Paul. They visit grizzled Vietnam war vets and young-faced wounded warriors from this generation. Everyone greets Archer with open arms.

Now it’s Sisko’s turn. It’s hard for me to believe he’s actually old enough to begin therapy dog training, but he is. He has grown up so fast and will be a year old in April.

A couple weeks back, Sisko and I began a first week Canine Good Citizen class. I don’t anticipate any problems as his obedience skills are very good; his only weakness is a tendency to lie down when left in a sit stay. We’re working on that. Everything else –  heel, down, stay, and come are wonderful. His “leave it” is excellent; once told to ignore something, it no longer exists. He doesn’t jump on people, doesn’t paw or scratch, and never touches anyone with his mouth. Well, except for the occasional teeny tiny tongue flick lick. He’s very social with other dogs. I don’t anticipate any problems but we’ll go through the class and earn his CGC.

The therapy dog class also began last week. Sisko was introduced to the command, “Go say hi!” and learned how to approach people so they could touch him. That was fine with him; people can pet him. He leaned into their hands.

During Sisko’s puppyhood I neglected to introduce him to wheelchairs and walkers. I have no idea why; I usually do it as a matter of course. But he learned what they were in the first class. He saw them move, heard them rattle, and walked up to investigate – no problems.

He also learned how to approach wheelchairs from the side – left or right – and to stand still so people in a chair can reach him. We also did the same thing to walkers.

My only reservation is that Sisko is still young. Most of our previous Aussies have been mentally immature at just a year of age. They can really still be silly at this age. I don’t want to force him into therapy dog work and if he appears to be too immature I’ll slow down. However, although Sisko is always willing to play, he’s an old soul. He’s serious for his age and very loving. I do think this is going to be perfect for him.

In coming weeks, I’ll post about Sisko’s progress and perhaps Kim will add some notes about Harper, too, as she also has the goal of becoming a therapy dog.

Photo credit: Bashir on the left, Sisko on the right – almost as tall as Bashir. Photo by Liz Palika.

*(As a minor side note, that series was nominated as Best Regular Blog in the 2009 Dog Writers Association of America writing competition.)

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