I lost a very dear cat last spring and the first thing I did was call my father and sobbingly ask if I could bury her in his yard as I live in an apartment and couldn't bear the thought of turning her over to the vet. I was a total mess on the phone and cried for hours afterward. I think Dad would have given me the moon if I'd asked for it that day (and probably any other day). I'm 34 and not ashamed in the least to have loved a creature so completely as to be totally heartbroken when she had to leave.