When to Say Goodbye: A Practical Checklist

There is no test that tells you the day. What follows is the framework veterinarians actually use, and the questions people wish they'd asked before the appointment — not to make the decision easy, but to make it less lonely.

Start with the good-days calendar

For two weeks, mark each evening: was today a good day, a mixed day, or a bad day? "Good" means they ate, moved without obvious pain, and showed interest in something. Most people find the pattern is clearer than their memory of it — grief and hope both distort recall.

If the bad days outnumber the good ones across two weeks, that's information. It doesn't decide for you, but it's the most honest measure available.

The HHHHHMM scale

Developed by Dr. Alice Villalobos and used widely in hospice care. Score each 0–10, where 10 is normal:

• Hurt — is pain controlled? Can they breathe comfortably?
• Hunger — are they eating enough?
• Hydration — are they drinking?
• Hygiene — can they stay clean without help?
• Happiness — do they still show interest in you or their routines?
• Mobility — can they get up, walk, and get outside?
• More good days than bad.

A rough guide: if the total is under 35 out of 70, quality of life is generally considered poor. A single very low score isn't decisive on its own — but a 1 in Mobility alongside a 2 in Happiness is a conversation to have this week, not next month.

Five questions for your vet

• Is there anything that would meaningfully improve their comfort, not just extend their life?
• How much pain do you think they're in right now, and how do you know?
• What will the next month realistically look like — good days, bad days, decline?
• What would you do if this were your own animal?
• Can it happen at home, and who would come?

The fourth question is the one people are most afraid to ask and most glad they did. Vets answer it honestly when asked directly.

What to plan, practically

• Where. At home is possible in most cities and usually calmer for the animal. It costs more ($200–$400 typically) and requires scheduling.
• Who. Decide in advance who will be in the room. Children only if they want to be and are prepared.
• What to bring. Their own blanket, a favourite treat, and — yes — something for them to lie on that smells of home.
• What happens after. Decide cremation or burial before the appointment, not in the car park. Costs and options here.
• Ask for a paw print. Most clinics will do one at no charge if you ask. Ask when you book, not when you arrive.

Don't wait for the crisis

The most common regret isn't "too soon". It's waiting for a 2am emergency where the only option is a stranger, a fluorescent room, and no chance to say anything properly. If you're asking the question, you're already in the window — plan the day while you can still choose it.

About the guilt afterwards

It arrives either way — if you wait, you feel you waited; if you don't, you feel you rushed. That's not evidence you chose wrong. It's what love sounds like when it has nowhere to go.

One sentence that helps, and that you're allowed to borrow: I didn't choose this day. The illness chose it. I chose to be there.

For the animals and people left behind

Let your other pets see the body when you come home, if you can. Keep their routine identical for a month. And for yourself: decide in advance on one small thing you'll keep — the collar, a lock of fur, the paw print — and put it somewhere you'll walk past every day. Options here.

---

If you'd like to keep a little of them

If you're reading this for someone else, or for a day that hasn't happened yet, these are the quiet things people are glad they had.

Free US shipping over $29.90 · Each piece is made when you order