Your note evoked a strong memory of the passing of my dog, Seven.  She died of heart failure on my couch around 5 in the morning while I lay beside her, face to face.  She held my gaze through her last breath.  I felt deeply sad, but also intensely present, and her passing was peaceful.  I can't imagine not being with her for this moment.

A couple of days earlier she had gone from being playful and strong to having no appetite and hardly moving.  I brought her to the vet and when I showed them Seven, they rushed her into the back.  They came out to tell me that she was dying, which was completely unexpected, and when I asked how long, they said any day.  She had a defect in her heart that was leaking blood into the sac that surrounds it.  The sac was filling up.  They told me that they could drain it, and she would feel better, but that they couldn't fix it and that the sac would fill again.  I told them to drain it and she was her old self again.  We spent one last glorious day hiking and exploring some of her favorite woodland trails.  Very grateful for this.