Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time... It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other. - Leo F. Buscaglia

This article appears as a departure from the typical style and contains purely op-ed content. This will be the first in a series of topics focused on caring for your senior pet.

For Missy, Ron, Jenny, Jim, Pam, Phil, and Whitney

Nearly six years ago on a Friday afternoon in August, I drove to Knoxville to meet and potentially bring Stelladog home with me. Who was I kidding? There was no chance that Stella would not be coming home with me. I didn't know enough to even ask questions that might have changed my mind. I didn't know that she had already been placed in a few other homes that didn't work out. And I didn't know that her stomach would be as sensitive as my own, making her love of food an always-interesting challenge, much like my own. Even after a few weeks of the two of us struggling to determine who was "alpha" and some frustrated phone calls back to the folks at Wolf Creek, there was never any question about whether Stella was here to stay. And I certainly didn't know that she would eventually be diagnosed with chronic renal failure with a very poor prognosis.

One of the beautiful things about adopting a dog from a rescue is that you don't know the entire history of the dog. There's no chance to form a presupposed notion of the dog. The relationship starts at the time you bring the dog home and leaves behind any past issues. Thankfully, unlike people, in most cases dogs are eager to be happy creatures and have very little problem forgetting bad things in their past. They don't hold grudges and seem to remember only the good times.

The reality is that you will most likely outlive your Weimaraner. That's the other thing that nobody tells you when you take your dog home. And who could blame them? Nobody likes to think about end-of-life decisions and concerns, and certainly not during the excitement of bringing your new dog home. But unfortunately, it's a very real part of adopting a dog that we all must be aware of and prepared for. We shouldn't become overwhelmed by worry about the end of our pets' lives, but must realize that we will likely be forced to watch our pets age and modify our routines, our lifestyles, and our interactions with those pets as they age.

Stella was always a high-intensity dog. Only a few months before her death, she was still literally jumping over furniture with excitement when I would arrive home from work, or just before time for a meal. She didn't know that she was nine years old, and that large breed dogs needed to slow down well in advance of age nine. Very thankfully, she never suffered from arthritis or hip dysplasia. She certainly didn't age like most other large breed dogs, and still insisted on maintaining an active lifestyle. For many, though, a reduction in vigorous activity is a normal part of the aging process. Walks might get shorter and time spent resting might increase, but it's still vital to keep your dog active and engaged.

Stella's cognitive ability never diminished. She proved early on that given any opportunity, she could easily demonstrate her superior intelligence. How many dogs can peel a banana? How many dogs would decide to go bark at their friend to fetch the ball out of the lake instead of getting wet themselves? That was Stella. Her favorite game was something like "Hey! Look at this great toy. You KNOW you want it. Don't you? See it? You want it. Try to get it. Yea, that's right. You can't have it. It's MINE and I'll growl at you. But look! Isn't it cool? Try to get it again." That's what we were doing just before I took her back to her vet the day that she was hospitalized for the last time.

In future articles, we will focus more specifically on the aging process for dogs. In this article, the intent is simply to introduce a difficult topic, share my experiences, and provide some suggestions for other pet owners facing the loss of their best friend.

A friend and fellow Weimaraner enthusiast told me upon hearing of Stella's passing, "Pets should always outlive inlaws." And I couldn't agree more! Certainly you will have friends that share their lives with dogs and can empathize with the loss of your pet. My friends were fantastic throughout Stella's illness and ultimate demise. Friends literally from all across the United States sent countless e-mails, reached out to their contacts for clinical advice, continuously checked in on Stella, and offered nothing but kindness and support immediately following her death. Surround yourself with friends. Somewhere on a calendar, I once read a tongue-in-cheek prayer: "Lord, please help me to be the person my dog thinks I am." Losing Stella served as a good reminder that every day I should do my very best to engage my friends with the same love and passion for life that Stella gave to me. Two days before she died, even as she was so weak she could barely stand, she still walked over to the stairs to greet me when I came home with a wagging tail. She grabbed a toy and wanted to play. Over the years, anticipation of that greeting became a very important stress reliever for me. No matter how bad my day at the office seemed to be, I could always count on Stella to be waiting on me as soon as I got home. She taught me a tremendous amount about service to others and the past few weeks have reminded me that I should constantly strive to be as dependable to and such an important part of my friends' lives.

It's important to consider end-of-life care before that time comes. What are the limits you will set for medical treatment? There's no right or wrong answer. In my professional life, I work with long-term care facilities and have become all too accustomed to seeing varying degrees of suffering in humans. I'm very thankful that Stella's illness progressed rapidly and that there was a very definite point in time when her veterinarian and I recognized that further treatment would simply prolong her suffering and be selfishly cruel. It's important to be able to discuss termination of care and death with dignity with your vet. You will know when that time has come. When Stella no longer wanted to go for walks, when she became entirely disinterested in food, and when the rapid infusion of intravenous fluids caused her so much edema as to be terribly uncomfortable with only more dismal lab results, it was clear that it was time to end treatment and end her suffering. We had already said our goodbyes on her last healthy day. The last phone call from her vet was certainly unpleasant, but I was relieved to know that she would no longer be suffering.

And speaking of veterinarians, it is essential to find a vet that you are comfortable with. Dr. Tracy Lilly and Dr. Ron Scott took tremendous care of Stella - and of me! - during her life and her death. Dr. Scott had been her vet since she came home with me. Not only is he a fantastic diagnostician, he also has the ability to make me relax and think rationally about disease states, treatment, etc... He tells fascinating stories, too! As Dr. Scott cut back the hours that he worked, Dr. Lilly came on board to cover the hours that he was not in the office. Stella never saw Dr. Lilly until she became very ill. But her commitment to Stella's care leaves me hopeful that as I age, I will find a physician that will be only half as committed to my care. She, too, went above and beyond the call of duty to patiently explain things to me, provide status updates, research food options, and spend time with Stella. The vet techs - especially Laurie - were fantastic, too. The entire office was always very good to both of us, but really exhibited tremendous care, effort, and compassion during Stella's final days. If you feel rushed when you talk with your vet or have any reservations about their treatment of your pet, do not waste another day. Find a vet that both you and your pet are comfortable seeing. Build a strong relationship. Take them breakfast. You will one day need that strong relationship.

Finally, laugh. Take another lesson from your dog and recall some of the fantastic memories you've made. There are too many times that Stella made me laugh to the point of crying to recall here. Sometimes throughout the day, I will see something or be in a situation that reminds me of Stella, and I frequently laugh out loud thinking about a time in our past or what her reaction would be if she was standing beside me.

Several months ago (long before Stella fell ill), a very close friend that I made after adopting Stella suggested that I read Garth Stein's novel, The Art of Racing in the Rain. For any dog lover, this is simply a must-read. Written from a dog's perspective, you will laugh and cry with Enzo as he tells his life story and discusses the importance of a dignified death. Take the time to read this book; you will not be disappointed.

Soon I plan to share a drink with some of my closest friends that I have made because of adopting Stella. Not only will it serve as a memorial to Stelladog, but also a toast to living each day going forward in an attempt to show them the same commitment, loyalty, and unquestioning friendship that she showed me. I implore each of you to consider these things and remember that your final act of kindness will be letting go and saying goodbye in a meaningful way to your best friend.