If you were to ask me what the best day of my life was, I'd have to think about it, make a list and rank each high point before I could answer the question.
But if you were to ask me what the
worst day of my life was, I'd be able to answer that with a precise date and time.
It was the day I had to do what you did. A lower point than even losing my parents and sister, because the dog's life had been entirely in my hands, and it was me who decided it was time for him to die. Me who sat there on the floor at the vet's and held him and tried to reassure him in his panic as they stuck him with the needle.
I will never do that again.