It was my greatest displeasure today to have to put down another pet.
Hansey, our 15-year-old or so long-haired dachshund went down literally (count them, as I did) in five seconds, peacefully, with not the slightest twitch of discomfort.
Actually, it was more like four and a half seconds. I shit you not: it was just that fast.
We should treat people with such humanity.
The vet and his assistant were both, individually, highly compassionate and professional. The vet, rightfully, reserved for himself the decision of whether the time was right. That he immediately agreed made the act a bit less bothersome for me, and made my wife (who bore the burden of decision) feel better about her decision. He warned me that in older dogs with poor circulation it might take a bit longer than usual, but afterwards he also told me that the rapidity of the transition was further indication that Hansey was "ready to go." Nice man. Nice assistant. It's got to be hard on them, too, to provide this service, no matter how many times they've done it.
Our son has been around for the passing of two of our other dogs (one by accident, one by euthanasia). Now, though, Eddie's probably old enough to understand better what goes on. I think this marks a milestone in his development.
Sleep tight Hansey. Onward and upward.