Top 5 Things to Never Say to a Senior Pet Parent

A few months into lockdown, I was one of a bazillion people feeling not so warm and fuzzy. “There’s so much I wanna say to people’s faces,” I thought, having grown real tired of showing thick skin when I was really worn thin as a crepe. My quarantine buddy looked up at me and agreed. So I sat down on my balcony that June evening and plunked out a whittled-down version of this post-turned-PSA and plopped it on Facebook. Thinking back to all the times I laughed off sidewalk commentary that had actually stung inside. The resonance from fellow pet parents was resounding. I thought back to earlier in the year when my fingers ran over a new pea-sized bump on the back of Ferg’s head, certain it wasn’t there earlier. For days I scrutinized and watched and thought the whole time oh god WHAT IS THIS NEW LUMP AND PLEASE DON’T LET THIS BE THE END. It turned out to be benign, but he looked like a cross between a cute little Frankenstein and a hairy football with those stitches on his head. On top of this latest spell of mama worry, a guy smirked in the elevator one evening as we rode up to our floor and said, “Looks like he got in a fight and lost.” I mean. What does one even say to that? I tend to lack those perfect, snappy comebacks in the moment, but more than that, I wish more people knew just how often senior pet parents replay scenes like this over and over in our heads. Words matter. So I’ve retrieved this PSA from the vault, added a few new pointers, and included a bunch of stuff I hope is helpful in talking about the many golden gals and guys whose company we're lucky to have alongside us every day.

The look I probably had on my face anyway when trying to conceal it.

#5: Please avoid: Saying “Wow, (s)he’s really slowing down these days!” Instead: Remark how lucky that pup is to take life at his/her own pace. And comment on how cute those short, perfect little legs are. Yes, every single senior pup parent is WELL aware that their shiny stallion may not run like the wind as much these days (but perhaps they can pass it like a champ!). We don’t exactly want it waved in our face because we live it daily. One of the greatest gifts Ferg gave me when we moved slowly on our walks was teaching me how to pay attention to both him and the simple gorgeous things in the world around us. Rushing was never his style (we had that in common) and he never, ever apologized for taking his time.

#4: Please avoid: Asking “What’s wrong with him/her?” because they look old. Instead: Emphasize what good care they must be getting by a mama/papa who loves them to pieces. Would you ask a human that? Or a human kid’s parent? Woof, I hope not! Truth is, every aging companion animal will deal with some kind of ailment–and they will all require some modifications and varying degrees of support as they age–again, just like humans! Okay, Ferg may have had some spry guy advantages with his already white hair. But as I learned from my life coach Rebecca, our energy follows where our focus goes. So if we place enormous amounts of attention on what’s going wrong, that’s what we'll notice and attract. And if we flip it and focus on what’s going well and what’s utterly heartwarming, we’ll get heaps more of that, too.

#3: Please avoid: Asking “So how much time you think they have left?” Instead: Bring up a favorite memory (if you know them) or ask human + animal what it is they love to do together.

I’m not kidding. I’ve literally been asked to predict when Ferg will die. Spiraling into even more pre-grief (also called anticipatory grief) causes pressure, anxiety, worry and doomsday thinking to soar even higher, which senior pet parents are already pretty well-versed in. Why’s he scratching again? MAKING A VET APPOINTMENT NOW. An extra gassy night in bed. WHAT’S WRONG WITH HIS TUMMY. More puke on the carpet. IT’S THE END. See where I’m going? It feels much better to cry tears from belly laughs over memorable moments in the now (like when Ferg scared himself with his own toots on the couch) than ones resulting from frustration and foreshadowing.

#2: Please avoid: Saying “Oh, you carry him now! He’s so lucky!” Instead: Shower that pet with love and compliments no matter how far he/she is off the ground. Did I love carrying Ferg? Undoubtedly. But you bet your bottom dollar I would have much rather seen him use his four little legs as much as he could on his own as the independent spunk he was rather than rely on my two extra to get us where we needed to go. I’ve watched neighbors and friends invest literally all of their weight to prop up pups of all sizes when needed. And it can get exhausting. It’s also a testament to how much we love them. So no matter the method of transport: their legs, their human’s, a chariot, doggie wheelchair or carrier strapped to the back, it’s always safe to say what a handsome boy or gorgeous girl they are and move right along.

And ...

#1: Please avoid: Jumping into a story about a pet who died at (or near) the same age as the one in front of you. Instead: Emphasize how rich their life must be and all the wisdom they sure do carry.

Following the ooohhhs and ahhhs and “what a handsome fella!” we were constantly asked “how old is he?” and (admittedly) sometimes I gave the same age across multiple years to convince myself he wasn’t aging. Toward the end though, I was blunt and said the real thing because I was damn proud of his full life.

But the mood would change quickly when we were suddenly met with “Oh wow.” + a set of furrowed eyebrows. I could tell the wheels were turning and memories were coming back. And then, out would launch a heart wrenching story about a pup that died exactly at his age that made me want to turn to Ferg and say “cover your ears, bud!” I absolutely get why folks do it. Their heart’s in the right place. They want to connect. Remember their own buddies. AND, I’ve had to stop myself a handful of times now from doing that very thing because I understand just how strong of a reaction it is when we miss a piece of our hearts so overwhelmingly much.

What always felt good though? Remarks about enjoying life with a senior pup and the many gifts that come with it. For me, those don’t fit on a “top five” list. There are simply too many to count. Enjoy this story? Sign up to receive future ones in your inbox.

Quarantine balcony hammock days