The suckiest day in a long time.

So yesterday pretty much sucked beyond belief.
Pierre was put down.
A couple of years ago, he was bitten half to death by the dog next door - a golden retriever and he sustained massive injury to his left hind leg, had a bunch of stitches and was pretty much a mess for a long time.
He seemed to recover, however and the vet said that he'd probably just have issues with big dogs, which he did.
That, however, was something I chose that he could live with, as long as he wouldn't have any other mental or physical issues, which the vet didn't think he would.
For the longest time, he seemed fine. Yeah, when he'd been out for a long walk, his leg would be sore, but it wasn't too bad, and he would still be all crazed, if you threw a ball for him to fetch.
But all that changed like.... 3 months ago, or so. Suddenly, he stopped bringing me his toys so I could throw them, he'd start limping when he'd been for a long walk and he'd randomly scream and whine, if he made a wrong move with his left hind leg.
For a while, I figured that he was just being a bit hysterical. He's always been the kind of dog that would seek your sympathy and enjoy the attention.
But finally, it started worrying me so much that I called and made an appointment at the vet's.
He took a look at him and noticed that Pierre's left leg was a bit more stiff, but that it seemed alright, other than that.
He made a test and Pierre seemed to be a little numb around his spine, near the leg, but the vet didn't think it was anything to be worried about, though I got very worried when I saw him not reacting to the needle to his skin in that area.
The vet was very serious when telling me that he would give him a couple of shots with various medicines and then I'd get some antibiotics for him. If that didn't help, he informed, we'd have to try something else and if -that- didn't work, we should probably start considering what type of life, Pierre was having (I knew what that meant).
I told him that in that case, there'd be no discussion because I refuse to have my dog suffer, just because it'll hurt me to put him down and I refuse to have a dog that needs to have medicine every single day for the rest of his life, just to make it bearable for him.
We tried the two different drugs and it worked while Pierre was getting them, however two days after he'd stopped, it be back to the same again and it was killing me to see my otherwise so annoyingly active dog lay around, looking like 'please don't step on me, please!'.
Last saturday, his girlfriend came to see him and they normally spaz around, playing like the little crazed dogs that they were, but Pierre didn't want to play and Fie seemed to accept that.
They just walked around, nuzzling and kissing each other and Pierre was completely drained for two days, after she'd been here.
Yesterday, he was even less active and didn't even bother barking at the mailman, which was seriously concerning because he usually prided himself in barking at the mailman for as long as he could possibly see him and at that point I knew I was making the right choice.
I had called the vet on friday and my intention was to just discuss Pierre's life and condition with him and make a decision based on that, but when I saw my lovely puppy yesterday, my mind was made up.
It was time for my puppy to leave this earth and I had to make that decision for him, because he couldn't do it himself.
When I got to the vet's office, he took one look at me and nodded, after which we talked a little back and forth and he told me that if I hadn't mentioned it, he would have and that I was making the right decision for my puppy.
I took Pierre in my arms (he was a Papillon, so not that big, lol) and the vet injected him with a sedative and left the room.
It took around five minutes for my puppy to fall asleep and after a little more than that, he was completely unconscious.
I, of course, was bawling my eyes out in his fur - not because I felt bad for him because in my heart I knew I was doing the right thing for him, but it just hurts to pretty much kill your best friend and to think that you'll never see him race across the grass again.
The vet returned to the room and he injected the lethal fluids into my puppy and after only a few seconds, it was over. My puppy was at peace, again.
Even now, as I'm writing this, I have tears coming down my face, which proves to me that I'm not completely cold-hearted (although some seem to think so).
The first thing I did, when I left the vet's office, was buy myself a pack of cigarettes. I hadn't smoked for 3 months, but at that moment I just had to smoke.
I swore to myself that it was just that pack and that I wouldn't smoke more than that and I haven't.
Every single one of those cigarettes tasted horribly and it felt completely wrong to have a cigarette between my lips again, so I can assure you that I will not go back to smoking on a regular basis.
I smoked the last one in the pack around 10am (it's now 6pm) today and I haven't had any problems with not smoking since.
I suppose you can say that it was a minor glitch, but I don't feel guilty for smoking those cigarettes, because it was a conscious decision and it was what I needed at the time, just like the two beers I had with my stepdad yesterday afternoon.

I miss my puppy horribly and I know I will for a long time to come, but hopefully my random bursting out into tears thing won't go on for much longer, because it's just annoying.
I have work tomorrow and I really don't want to be working the entire weekend. I pretty much just want to curl up and hide, but I know that with the kind of mentality I have, it'll be good for me not to be able to do that.
I was a mess yesterday, but I wanna thank the following for their kind words and support:
Nat (you're my rock, baby. what else can I say? I love you.)
ShireRock
ACDalgaard
tensh_iie
Kate (thank you for that lovely poem. made me bawl, but it was cute)
AngCummings
live4live
Jen
freaksoldier
ALH30
You're all amazing and I <3 you.