"It was my cat, so my vote counted more than his did, and the cat lived to a ripe old age. But in my husband’s defense I should mention that his formative years were spent in the small-town South, where humane people went out in the yard and shot an animal if it was suffering.... My husband would have found it impossible to believe that 30 years later he would be running around the house in his boxers, trying to tackle an ancient 70-pound mutt in the dark and shove a pill down his throat. Clark is also deaf, and he suffers from crippling arthritis. So far we have been able to manage his pain with medication, but at his checkup last year, when he turned 13, the vet had some sobering news. 'With big dogs, there’s often a huge difference between 12 and 13,' he said. 'One day Clark won’t be able to get up, and when that happens it’ll be time to let him go.' The very idea is unthinkable...."

From "The Pain of Loving Old Dogs" by Margaret Renkl (NYT).

(Note that the title has 2 meanings. The obvious meaning is that the loving is painful for the human being. The secondary meaning, probably intended, is that the loving dog experiences pain.)