I feel for ya. I remember when I had to go and put my dog down about 20 years ago. It was the neighbors Norwegian Elkhound, think Germam Shepard, but gray instead of brown and put thru a trash compactor. Their son wanted a dog and they kept telling him, "Later, we'll get a dog later." SO, they named the dog Later. The son had grown up and moved out, the father had passed away, and his wife finally had to move into a retirement community (no pets allowed), and since Later knew our family fairly well, and I pretty much grew up with the dog, she gave him to our family. He lived with us for about 4 years (to the age of about 16) before his hips went so bad that we had to put him down. My dad and I took him to the vet. When we got home, he and I finished a bottle of bourbon while watching TV. Damn, I still miss him. <img src="/images/graemlins/frown.gif" alt="" />
I haven't had another dog since him, but when I do (gotta get a house first), it will be another elkhound or a husky (hey I like winter dogs, sue me), and I'm namin' him "MUCH Later". <img src="/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />
When I get home from work in the morning, I'm pouring myself a glass of 12 year old Glenfiddich (it ain't bourbon, but close enough) in honor of my "Mooch Pooch"