Some of us with cars like to keep them mostly blemish-free. Others grow more attached the more their car is beat to shit. There are a lot of readers of this site in that second camp.
I'm just going to let Desu-San-Desu take it from here with this great story about a dutiful ex-postman, RHD(!) Legacy:
How to become best friends with your car, before you give it a mercy killing: A nostalgic photo demonstration.
The day I bought it for less than a week's pay...
...My friends and I got drunk and turned it into a graffiti car.
It was also the day I gained my co-pilot.
Then came the day I packed up everything I owned into it and drove it 1,000 miles south to get back home.
The day is snowed and I named it 'Westley'...
...Because we couldn't get it stuck, because it wouldn't give up. It just said "As you wish" and kept going.
Then, 2 years after I bought it, the transmission began to go out...
And we discovered the differential might possibly be cursed.
So we took it out into the woods and drove it until it couldn't drive anymore. It didn't matter that the nearest actual trail or dirt road was a mile away- we just made our own path. It pushed through small trees, undergrowth, and left tire tracks in its wake so deep it was sometimes dragging the bumper through the loam. We almost made it to the road, before the transmission finally gave out. At which point...
We thanked it for its service, brought out the baseball bats, the barbecue grill, and a few friends and gave it a fitting 'winter beater' farewell. After which...
...we pulled the engine, pushed it out to the dirt road, and called the tow truck. The guy gave me almost as much as I paid for the car in just scrap worth. It was never a pretty car, but it had character, always got me where I needed to go, and left me with many fond memories. Even if I'd paid double and scrapped it for free, it still would've been worth every penny.