In the end, it was both

Before Pan died, I wondered about whether it was harder to know it was coming, or to be taken by surprise. I couldn't decide.

It is now my considered opinion that it's better and worse.

It's better because I know I took every opportunity to love Pan, to tell him how wonderful he was, to cuddle and snuggle and scritch. There isn't a single regret of something I would have done, or would not have done, "if only I'd known". I knew. I'm confident in all that I did.

But it's also worse because I knew it was coming, I knew how awful it would be, and though I tried and tried, I couldn't seem to stop mourning before time. How much it would hurt, how much I would miss him, how I would miss this or that behavior. And that was both miserable to go through, and no help at all when the time actually came.

In a favorite sci-fi fantasy book, The Gate of Ivory by Doris Egan, there is this:

...the question I must ask myself is this: Was it a good thing, or a bad thing?
And the answer is yes.

Right. What she said.