My 19 year old Border Terrier, Baldrick, was blind, deaf, and wont to crap everywhere. We were exhauseted, the house was smelly, and the bad weather meant we could no longer keep him in the garden in the day (it had been a lovely summer and he happily slept under the buddleia). We couldn't make the inevitable decision until we realised we were keeping him out of the fear of being without him rather than because he was a happy, fulfilled doggie. Four years later his ashes are in a little box by the side of the fireplace. There is a small yellow biscuit in between the inner container and the box. Sometimes we check if it's gone yet...