My springer spaniel mix, Figaro, had to be put down last night. He had kidney stones that would have required an operation, and at 15 years old, the vet didn't think he would do well with surgery.
He was a beautiful boy, and the sweetest and most loyal dog I've ever owned. He loved everyone, but he always preferred to be with me. Whether it was climbing trees when I was a kid (he somehow managed to follow me up) or to yesterday morning as he lay at my feet after work. I got him for my 15th birthday when my mom's boss had been planning on sending him to a kill shelter. She lead him in by a rope, with a dirty, matted coat, "Happy Birthday, give him a bath."
When the vet came in to put him down, I was on the floor and Fig was laying in my lap like we always do. I am so grateful that the vet let him stay where he was, and he could pass calmly while I held him.
My younger dog, Panger (a pittie), cried and howled most of the time we were gone, and he has stayed close since I've gotten home.
Go in peace, go in love.
UPDATE:
I just wanted to thank everyone who wrote something kind in this thread. I'm missing Figaro a lot and it helps to see how many other people understand and have furry family members who mean as much as to them as mine do to me.