I've got a 13-year-old mixed Lab. Over the past year his health has definitely taken a turn for the worse... he has, like most large breeds his age, hip dysplasia and other more natural disorders that tend to impact older dogs. And every single day, that hill around the back of the house to the front door gets harder and harder for him to climb.
Now my kids... they don't remember what life was like without this dog, he's been there with them since they were toddlers. They seem to think that this beloved creature has got another 3-4 years left in him. And I say this with all sincerity - I wish they were right. But they've not spent the last couple of years with him, taking care of him, feeding him, taking him out to do his business, taking him to the vet, spending numerous days with him at the house. As much as it pains me to say this - from what I've learned over the years with other pet owners and my personal vet who treats him 3x per year - I seriously doubt that he'll make it to 2018.
My kids essentially represent the Tiger fans who choose to overlook the reality of his health situation with his back problems and just assume that in 18 months time that he's gonna return and be competitive again. Just like my kids - they refuse to acknowledge that a more probable outcome awaits, that they're gonna see his greatness reappear once he's healthy enough to swing a golf club again.
As much as I love my dog... as much as I hope and pray that my kids could, on the off chance, be correct... I still have to be the parent in the room. This is not how I wish to remember my dear best friend, the lovable furry muff that can no longer contain his bowels, who can no longer make it up the hill behind the house, who can no longer eat a normal portion of food, who can no longer maintain anything other than an idle, lying-down existence in my living room. No, this is not who he was, even though it is who he's become. There will come a point soon, I'm afraid, when I have to be the bad guy and make the depressing and unpopular decision to have him put down.
And the reason is because I refuse to be selfish. I'm not gonna ask more of that beloved dog than he can deliver. I'm not gonna make him suffer simply because I still want to come home in the afternoon, after a round of golf, and see him lying on the living room floor pretending like his pain doesn't exist and that he's happy to see me. I will be the responsible pet owner, even if it means my kids hate me for a few months afterward for doing something that will be one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do.
Tiger's beloved fanbase would be well served to embrace that similar mindset. I don't want to remember Tiger as the Willie Mays of golf, the guy who just didn't know when to call it a career.
Anyone who truly believes that Tiger isn't officially done is no different than my kids who love that old, struggling mixed Lab of mine, assuming he'll be around another 4-5 years. There is a point when reality cannot be overlooked, when it has the final say. Tiger is there. And the sooner he gets on with the next chapter in his life, the better he will be remembered.
And (most likely) a better quality of life to be enjoyed as well.
