E.D.
When I was ten years old, my cat was killed, my dog hit by a car, and my parents divorced. It was an unpleasant year, especially because growing up, my pets were my best (an often only) friends.
At the end of the year, when we'd all grieved for a while, my mom agreed to let me get another dog. I bought him with my own money (I was very proud), and chose him from his litter (he untied my shoe laces with his mouth), and took him to dog training classes, and potty trained him, and slept with him, and fed him, and loved him ever so much.
My daughter was born when I was 23 and that was the year we put my dog down. See, he wasn't doing well by then. His hips hurt, and it was hard for him to get up. After a few months, he could go to the bathroom very easily, and then he started to wee himself. He was in so much pain. And my boy was tired. He'd lived a real' long full life. Funny thing though, that tail of his kept on waggin', even when he couldn't move his body around. He'd wag slow, thump, thump, thump, when you'd say his name loud enough that he could hear.
It wasn't easy deciding when, but eventually we couldn't justify keeping him alive any longer. I can't keep a soul alive just to stave off my own grief. Death comes to all of us, and I wanted my boy to stop suffering. It was his time.
We had a vet come out to our house on a sunny spring day and she euthanized him there in the back yard. We held him, pet him, kissed him, and waved him off as he left the world. It was hard, and we all cried a lot, but I know our decision was the right one for us to make.
It's hard, letting go. Our dog now is starting to age, and she's my all the time companion. Heck, she's laying here with me right now. I am not looking forward to the day we must make that same decision, to let go. I have several more years with her, I hope. She's a really good friend and the kids don't remember a time without her. But one day, she, like me, will die.
Your pocket book is your pocket book, and I'm not going to judge you for trying to save your dog's life. Not a bit. I do hope that, when his quality of life ends, you will be able to allow him to go. I'm sure you'll know the right time.
Hugs to you.