If it should be that I grow frail and weak
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then will you do what must be done,
For this -- the last battle -- can't be won.
You will be sad I understand,
But don't let grief then stay your hand,
For on this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship must stand the test.
We have had so many happy years,
You wouldn't want me to suffer so.
When the time comes, please, let me go.
Take me to where to my needs they'll tend,
Only, stay with me till the end
And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time you will agree
It is a kindness you do to me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I have been saved.
Don't grieve that it must be you
Who has to decide this thing to do;
We've been so close -- we two -- these years,
Don't let your heart hold any tears.
-- Unknown
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Originally Posted by remdog
Looking back, though, it was a bonding time for him and I. I continued this all through college, hunting the dog down throughout the neighborhood. After my wife and I were married he moved back to Dayton with us. We got an apartment and my wife continued to do the same thing, let the dog out the front door, tell him to run, and he'd do his business and run around. He loved people. Would approach anyone and wag his too-shortly-cut stub on his butt. He was a miniature schnauzer but weighed in at around 31 lbs. Not exactly miniature. Anyway, life continued to move, we had our oldest son, and the dog loved him. Would follow him around, keep an eye on him, etc. Eventually we moved into a house with a fenced in yard. He was confused at first, but got used to it. Our second child was born. Same thing. The dog absolutely loved him and would protect him to no end. Last July, I came home from work and he didn't rush to the door to greet me (which NEVER happened). I found him in a corner of a room, panting, like he couldn't catch his breath, or was overheated. I took him to the vet that night. The vet told me he had pancreatitis. Schnauzers were suseptable to pancreatitis because they have such high fat content in their blood. The condition, I was told, was too bad to be reversed. He was suffering. I talked to my wife and we decided to have him put down. We both went to the vets office the next day. Both of us with huge tears in our eyes. My wife held him for about a 1/2 hour and then I held him after she said goodbye and left the room. He glanced at me with those big black Chewbacca looking eyes. He was sad. I think he knew he wouldn't see us again. The first tear dropped from my eyes. He put his head down and gave a large exhale. Another tear fell. I held him as the doctor put him down. One last time he glanced at me and I swear he looked right through me and to my heart to tell me everything would be ok. It was gut-wrenching. I walked out of the room and cried for a good hour and a half. Uncontrollably. We buried him in our backyard later that day and that was hard, too. 
