Who Gets to Choose - Part 2: Reflections on life, death and stewardship

I hadn’t planned on writing this today or posting this as part 2 of my first personal reflections on ethical euthanasia. In fact, I had planned to post my second blog, entitled ‘The Beginning’, as the backstory to why I started this journey with Apollo. As it turns out, this is more apt. The beginning beginning, if you will. Because this journey of curiosity and stewardship really began with Roo….

If you haven’t read part 1 yet, go do that. It’s Roos’ story and the heartbreakingly difficult decision I made earlier this year. Part two came about following a conversation I had with a friend about life and choice. For those who don’t know – I am 32 weeks pregnant. At the age of 45, with 3 wonderful boys already (the youngest being 11 years old), this one was unplanned and a complete surprise!

I mentioned that being pregnant wasn’t a conscious choice I made. And how my own belief systems and values removed any choice about potential termination – after all, the gift of life has been given (in the words of John O’Donohue, “You were not born, you were chosen”), and who am I to decide whether that life gets a chance or not? And I’m not saying that, had the circumstances under which this soul came to being been different, my thought process would be altered – and I couldn’t possibly say either, because my situation is what it is and what my decision-making is based upon…. The point is that no sooner had I spoken these words, my thoughts went straight to Roo.

And so, I have spent some time with this. Because, by gosh, didn’t it feel uncomfortable!

I have questioned myself and my decision-making. How can I believe I don’t have the authority to decide whether one life gets to continue, yet decide that another doesn’t…? That hit hard. Two living beings. Both have value and purpose (or why else are they here?). Because one is a human and one is a horse, does that make one life more valuable than the other? 

Here I am saying that I didn’t have a perceived choice with Baby Gus, but I did with Roo. And I chose to end a life. So how do I justify that?

I guess the only thing I can stumble on is that Gus kinda slots into our lives as is. I am married to a good man; we have a fantastic relationship (read: fantastic, not perfect before you start asking for advice…!), three amazing boys already, and despite the chaos of losing our family home, we are in a new home and getting settled. I don’t need to travel 15 mins down the road to feed and tend to him, for a start…! But this isn’t even about ‘convenience’. My decision about Roo was founded on our own unique circumstances. Had I had land of my own, my choice would likely have been very different. Had I not fallen pregnant, or Tom been out of work for a period of time, or, in fact, had we not had to leave the farm – home to us all, horses and humans - would that have changed anything? Absolutely, it would have.

In my recent research paper, which I felt compelled to write following Roos’ euthanasia, and which looks at stewardship of other beings as a concept (other beings specifically being horses, in this context), I consider how ethical decision-making sits at the heart of balancing competing responsibilities towards animal wellbeing, emotional attachments, professional/personal obligations and practical constraints. Not isolated events, but cumulative welfare, “stewardship addresses the space between knowledge and responsibility, expanding ethical decision-making from isolated dilemmas to a continuous moral obligation for animals under human care”.

If stewardship is about responsibly caring for something entrusted to us that is not ours to exploit, then keeping another being (who is dependent on us to provide the conditions for a life in which they can thrive) alive because of our own emotional attachment or perceived social/cultural attitudes is surely exploitation? Stewardship, therefore, is a moral orientation emphasising ongoing accountability and responsiveness throughout a being’s life.

Beyond welfare, stewardship calls us to ask “what constitutes a good life?” “What duties do we hold beyond merely avoiding harm?” And thus…. “When is ending a life the most welfare-focused decision?”

And so, I have come full circle. Roo had a fantastic life with me. At a time in my life when I no longer had the personal resources to continue to provide that life, and could not guarantee his quality of life had I simply given him to someone else to look after, I made the absolutely heartbreaking decision to euthanise.

Two beings. Two very different circumstances. Each prompting its own decision-making process that had quality of life and best interests at its very core.

Two lives. The same but different.

Carrying the same expectations for all living beings without consideration of the often nuanced individual circumstances is not stewardship.

I love Roo. There are times when I deeply miss him and all his quirky ways (and I wonder if the other ponies do, too). I am not ashamed to admit I still sometimes cry when I think about him. In my heart, I know I did the right thing.

One life beginning, one life at the end. I am humbled and grateful for this huge opportunity to reflect, to learn, and to understand a bit more about this beautiful, messy thing we call life.