Job done
Sasha died at noon today: he was 18 years old, a good age for a Tonkinese. For the last week he had become increasingly listless, uncomfortable and clearly unwell, making the trip to the vet, and his diagnosis, inevitable.
I stayed with him until the end, and beyond. When you commit yourself to a pet, it’s part of the job, an obligation and a way of showing the same affection that he has given to you.
Sash was a character, a scrapper in his younger days but never given to bringing home friends and dismantling them in the hall. He lived an independent life but was always an integral part of our household, and a vocal one too.
I’ll miss him like hell, and I’m sad when I dwell on the fact that I’ll never again hear him yell for food, or attention, or anything else. But I don’t feel bad, because we both knew that I’d got the moment right. He was in a bad place, it couldn’t get any better, and no way was I going to let it get any worse.
So long, buddy, and thanks for the laughs, the loyalty and the love.
Quintin Jardine's blog 
So sorry for your loss.
My deepest sympathy. To grieve for a lost pet shows he was truly ‘one f the family’, and without that attachment it is not good to keep one. Remember all the good times and when he made you laugh.
Good decision. You can’t stand by and watch or even try to save a suffering animal that can’t be saved. No good for the animal and no good for the “owner” for lack of another word, you can’t ever own animals. Seen this with sheepdogs, look into their eyes, they know they’re going and, in a way, you’re making it easier for them. It’s not any easier for you but you just have to remember the good times. Extrapolate and this is way over the top and not politically correct just now, in France at least! It’s all about love, respect and dignity.