Oh, I think my time's nearly up already, 221! My right knee's decided to be beastly today, I've got a leprous cold sore and a disgusting phlegmy cough, wheezy lungs, and feel stiff and sore all over. I'm not worried about when my time's up - if I think it's taking too long to arrive, I'll arrange it myself. After all, it's the least kindness we can do for ourselves... <_<
When the quality of life is over for a pet (or 'life companion' if you really do twee), you have a choice - let it stagger around in ever-decreasing ill health until it finally dies (and boy, do animals take a hell of a long time to drool and twitch to death) because you don't want to call the shots, or you think it's 'unnatural'; or have it put to sleep, with you beside it, gently reassuring it on its way to Pet Heaven. Where, I know, it is given lovely gossamer wings, never needs to eat again, and drinks from sparkling springs overhung by exquisite crystal trees. Or was that the Andrex ad? I get confused at this late stage of my life...