Old dog,
your putrid breath
reminds us of the decay of death.
Unsteady legs rise with effort
as your old eyes lock your foggy gaze
on me.
Old dog, some day I will have to make
a hard decision, unless your nightly
snores and sighs
(that sound like burglars in the garage,
and scare me when I’m alone)
should give way to silence,
that will tear my heart apart.
Shawn L. Bird 
Yes. We prepare for the inevitable and still have to gather the shards of our hearts.
😦
I am a little bit in love with your old dog myself!
He’s a sweet old boy.
(though he gets smellier all the time).
It’s the hardest choice one ever makes, save the unthinkable one, regarding a human love.