saying goodbye is always hard to do

saying goodbye is always hard to do. pets are no different. if you love them, you hate to see them in pain, you hate to see them go. lulu was horrible. i never knew how very awful it would be to pet that little lifeless body and kiss that little furry face and know that it was the last time. to never see her do her happy feet dance, or hear her little growls and ruffs. or look into those brown and blue eyes. or watch her disappear in the snow when it was taller than her. or put her little sweaters on her to keep her warm in the cold.
now, only 6 months later, it's maya's turn. her back legs don't work anymore. she can't walk. nick has to hold her up so she can go to the bathroom. she'll hobble a bit, but then she'll fall and not be able to get up. she shakes, she's hurting. she's such a good good girl. so sweet. it's her time. tomorrow at 3 we're gonna do it. i don't want to, nick doesn't want to, but we know it's what's best for her. we can't let her suffer. we're gonna be there with her, it's gonna be terrible. she'll whimper, and cry probably. then her breathing will slow and stop. she won't blink. she won't move. her reflexes will make her chest go up and down a bit like she's breathing, but she won't be. her tongue will probably come out of her mouth a bit. she'll sleep. she'll be gone. and it'll be terrible and we'll cry, but we'll have her memory. i hate knowing that it's coming. maybe that's even worse. knowing. knowing that in a little more than 24 hours i'm going to have my dog put down. i'm going to murder my dog. i realize it's not dog murder, but it feels like it. just knowing that i'm going to leave and not leave with her. i wish she'd just pass away in her sleep. i think that'd be easier. is it terrible that i think that?