A couple of anecdotes to get this one rolling.
When I was a kid - probably somewhere in the neighborhood of 7 or 8 years old - the beloved border collie that had been in our family longer than I had was plainly in failing health. As much as I wanted to deny it, the end was coming. The day after Christmas, I woke up to my mom - not a woman given to emotional expression - tearfully explaining to me that the time has come while I was at rest. My dad had called a farmer friend of his to come over and help him do the decent thing.