lol...yeah, he probably would eat me, but I'd be cool with that. It's not like I need my body after I'm dead anyway. I'm a fan of recycling.
He's terrified of storms, but will follow me outside if I go out in one to keep me safe, he's the most passive dog you can imagine, but when I brought my son home as a newborn, I laid him down and walked away to get a drink only to hear a deep growl from the other room. I come back to find him laying across my son's legs growling at the bigger dog to 'protect' my son. So I'm not really projecting human emotions on him. Those are just few examples. There are more.
I would never choose the dogs over my family (well maybe my brothers...lol) and if I had walked into the vet and they told me on day one that his treatment would probably end up costing me the price of a new Kia, well, I probably would have let him go. But as it went, the bills just kept adding up one day at a time, one new thing after another, and once it got so bad, it became a choice of a dead dog and a lot of debt, or a live dog and a little more than a lot of debt. You know, like when your gambling, and you just don't know when to quit. When I thought he was going to die, there was a sort of relief that it was all going to be over, but kind of a feeling of failure too. Like he wasn't dying because he was old, he was dying because I didn't care for him as well as I could have. I don't know.
I don't fault you (or anyone else) for disagreeing with me. For sure. I often feel pretty stupid about it myself, to be perfectly honest. And if your intent wasn't to call me stupid, then my feelings are not hurt.