This is a beautiful, moving story. From Dr. Naomi Wolfe at lewrockwell.com:
Mushroom, our beloved and unbelievably elderly dog, finally passed away. There was a day when he simply pulled his snout back sharply at the offer of food, and from then on, his decline was rapid.
There was a day when I would come into the house and find him slouched like a little black and white parcel in unusual places such as the corners of the dining room, or else I’d see him oddly trying to stand behind the wood stove. There were days during which he lay in his bed, curled in a furry round circle as usual, but scarcely moving; the concern, practically the breath, of angels, was palpably over him.
Brian, my husband, made broths, and tried to feed him with a spoon. At last the spoon was refused, and we knew we did not have long with him.
We called two vets; both were compassionate, but brisk, and quick to suggest euthanasia. “There’s a vet service that comes to your house, very sensitively, to put your dog to sleep,” explained one veterinary assistant. “This woman is great — you will love her.”
“I don’t think I’ll love anyone who is coming over to euthanize my dog,” I blurted out.