Yes, it did. Don't know if it was guilt, though. I realized how much this last one, Hans, loved me. I got out of back surgery and he laid his 125 pounds alongside me in the bed. Died on my feet. I screamed no and cried. Had just lost my best friend, also; my Dad or Step-dad.
It was more like looking at something mentally instead of physically. When I went and picked the dog up at his holding pen, the man caring for him said the same exact words I had said years ago: I don't want your number and I don't want to know where you live. Looking at how much this dog loved me, it did bring a remembrance to mind of my other dog's love. I may have done what was best for him physically, but I may have spiritually betrayed him. He jumped on a little girl and penned her down in front of her parents. I called him off, but could not stop him. Up until that moment, I had full control of him. The little girl threw things over the fence and taunted him day and afternoon. They rode by and she stuck her tongue out at him. When she ran toward the front door, it was game on. Down the street two doors down and across, he warned her to stop. Bad dog. The man told me he was going to beat me to death with his belt buckle(trucker), so I had him sit by my side and called for my Doberman to my other side, where they sat like stones. He called the police. I had my dog, Svatz, on a chain on wire between pecan trees, but he would run and break it when I would leave for work. I was scared he would break his neck.