DISCLAIMER: No dog(s) or any other animals were harmed in the making of this post

In the wake of a conversation with an acquaintance, a complex and somewhat disturbing topic came to light—one that challenges our conventional views on grief, mortality, and emotional resilience. This acquaintance, who has recently been enveloped by the shadow of death due to the loss of several close family and friends in the last few years, brought forth a scenario that might initially seem morbid or alarming to the uninitiated ear. This acquaintance has not only dealt with a lot of recent loss (a “lot” can be subjective but even to me it seems high) of family friends and loved ones, but they’re dealing with depression themselves and the depression of many others around them, with many of those friends and family around them expressing “dark thoughts” and suicide idealization. Essentially, my acquaintance has been very afraid they’re not out of the woods yet, that not only are all these “hard deaths” behind them, but all these “soft deaths” or potential deaths, surrounding them. This acquaintance confided in me that they can’t seem to escape it. I can sympathize.

Amid their ongoing struggle with these profound losses, they shared a seemingly light-hearted, yet provocative idea about their family dogs. The dogs, beloved yet undeniably a source of intense stress and financial strain, had driven their spouse to the brink. Half-jokingly, they mused about a day filled with joy for these pets, ending with a peaceful sleep from which they would never awaken—effectively a gentle but final solution to a relentless problem. Euthanization of their pets because of the stress they caused their family.

While this was clearly articulated as a thought experiment, not an intent or plan, it opened a door to a conversation about desensitization. If someone were to follow through with such a thought, hypothetically, what would it say about their emotional state? Are they broken, perhaps a nascent psychopath? Or is it possible that continuous exposure to death and loss has reshaped their emotional landscape to such an extent that death no longer registers the same impact?

This acquaintance assured me they were not planning any harm, either to themselves or the animals, but their thought process was a symptom of their broader emotional fatigue. Death, which once held a significant terror and sadness, had become a familiar, almost trivial companion in their life narrative.

So, this raises several questions worth pondering:

• Can continuous exposure to death truly change how we react emotionally to the concept of mortality?
• Where do we draw the line between practicality and morality when stress reaches a breaking point?
• How does one navigate the complex terrain of being emotionally numbed by grief without crossing into ethical ambivalence?

I invite you to consider these questions, not as a judgment of right or wrong, but as an exploration of human psychology under extreme stress. How does our moral compass recalibrate when faced with unending challenges? And what might this tell us about the human condition in the face of persistent, overwhelming adversity?

Personally, I never liked the term “fur babies” because I’ve always considered a dog, or a cat, a beloved pet, but not a person. They’re not a member of the family, or at most, they’re an outside non-critical member of the family. ie I would not run into a burning building to save my dog or my cat, putting my own life at risk. I would not allow a member of my family, or even a neighbor, to run into my burning home to save my dog or cat, because I value human life over that of a pet. Now if it were an actual “baby” and not a “fur baby” I would absolutely risk my own life to save my human baby. I love my dogs and cat, I do not wish pain or death on any of them, I’ve had pets in the past and they’ve had long (and I hope happy [but who can tell with a cat]) lives.

But in thinking about my acquaintance and their hypothetical scenario of putting their dog(s) to sleep peacefully at night after a very good day with them, and them potentially not feeling any remorse about it (or at the very least a very rapid emotional recovery). My own thoughts were mixed but I kept thinking “it’s not THAT bad since they are only talking about a pet and not a person”. But then my wife’s thought pattern, when I discussed it with her, was a lot more of shock and horror at the very notion of it. I do think she tends to think of pets more of fur-babies though, attaching to them more than I tend to attach to them. I don’t know where my acquaintance stands in terms of attachments to their own pets but I suspect it’s similar to my own thoughts since they could joke about euthanization so casually. but maybe they wouldn’t have joked so casually if they hadn’t been so surrounded by death.

Anyways, dear readers, this is all just some thought experiment/excercise brought on by a random conversation with a acquaintance of mine. Nothing has or will happen, and all is well. I don’t think we’re looking at a budding psychopath, but it made me curious enough about the de-sensitization of death and made me think about it enough that I decided to at least write something down.

Maybe in a year or two I’ll find this post, reach out to my acquaintance and ask them whatever came of their dog(s) and even their views on death. I may update this post at that time as it could be interesting to see what time does to this scenario.

DISCLAIMER: No dog(s) or any other animals were harmed in the making of this post

Filed under: Personal - @ 2025-02-28 6:47 pm