My wife's dog is dying of inoperable cancer. He's an old dog and had a bad case of heartworm at the time she adopted him, so if it weren't for this something else would get him before long. But she's taking it really hard, as I would if the same thing happened to the cat I've had for 11 years.
He stopped eating dry food a couple weeks ago, stopped eating wet food a few days later, and we've had to forcefeed him this awful smelling stuff that he hates. He stopped drinking water too, as of Saturday. He's been breathing oddly, staring off into space, and has clearly lost the will to live. We have an appointment in a few hours to have him euthanized.

It will be a relief. My wife pretty much spent the whole weekend holding him as much as possible, crying almost the entire time, and blaming herself even though it's obviously not her fault. We have different ways of feeling helpless I guess. It worries me because she's prone to depression and just came out from under it about 6 weeks back.
So... sad, worried, tired. And throw in stress and excitement over a big performance this Saturday, and it's crazytown.