HpprKM, I feel for you so much I'm in tears typing this. Thinking of any one of the animals I've had to make that decision for always reduces me to tears, even years later, as it is for some.
On my last major dig I had a lovely colleague called Barbara who looked after the finds for me. Every lunch-time she would go for a half-hour walk, taking whatever dogs we had about, with her. They all loved her.
She died of cancer in 2000.
I have a little vision of some place 'up' or 'out' there, where Barbara walks through summer hay fields with the dogs trailing contendedly after her. There's Kerry, my rescue Irish Setter, and Josie, Rik and Lady Wolfhound, and Jake who belonged to John and Stef, as well as her own dogs . . . And even though they never knew her, she'll take care of Raif and Lara Wolfhound for me too.
And somewhere in the same field is Khan, the 'Cat Who Hunts Wolfhounds', chasing his good-natured big friends, and leaping out at them from hiding . . .
Yeats wrote a poem about 'giving your heart to a dog to tear', and it's true of cats too. It HURTS. It's one of the ways we know we're alive.
I'll be thinking of you tonight, missing the warm lump on the duvet and sniffling. I'll be sniffling too.
I HATE wet pillows. :wink:
Viv 8)