I've been out of the bedroom for an hour and a half and she hasn't come out to check on me and go flop down on the couch to wait for me to tell we were going back to bed. Brandon's come out though. No more happy wiggly butt happy to see that I'm back home. No more snoring warm body leaning against me butt to butt in bed. Yes, I know Brandon will still be there, but it won't be her. He won't have to complain because she's laying in the bed between us. No little girl excited that its sunny and going outside to check her fish, or sun bathing on the patio.
Nessa would have turned eight next month. She picked me out when I went to visit her litter. She was advertised as a scottie-cocker. She was born in Molalla to a backyard breeder of Cocker Spaniels who mis-identified her neighbor's dog as a Scottie instead of a Schnauzer. I was still new to the world of dogs, so it wasn't until at a Rally-Obedience trial at APDT and all the ladies were cooing over the cute little Schnauzer puppy that I realized that there may have been a mistake made.
ETA: 5:00am Correction, Norbert was up in the corner of the couch watching over me this whole time. Letting me do the laundry and wash dishes and cry. I'm going to take him to bed and try for a little sleep before taking Nessa away. I want to have her cremated rather than buried here. I also apparently can't read a calendar.