It is strange how the lose of one little creature leaves such a hole in your life. For fourteen years I have spent so much of my day tending to Callie. Now I no longer have a need to open the door a dozen times a day to let her in or out. I don't have to stand on the deck freezing in my pjs hissing "Get in here now!" No longer do I have to stumble out of bed every morning to let her out and fix her bowl of stinky dog food. When I lay down for a nap, there is no Frito smelling fur ball curled up beside me. In the middle of the night I miss the sound of soft snoring, sighs, or stretching groans. I keep listen for the jingle of her collar and the click click of her nails on the kitchen floor. I even miss tripping over her because she's sitting right outside the bathroom door waiting for me.
It has been a strange mourning period. We have had three snow days this week and have been stuck at home. In someways it has forced me to deal with life without her, it has given me time to heal. But in other ways, the lack of routine has given me too much time in my head which is never good. There is a reason why I stay so busy. When I think too much I get sad. When I'm busy, I don't think. You do the math.
All of this does not bode well for empty nest syndrome. If the lose of one little (all be it amazing) dog leaves me feeling like this, what will I do without kids someday? I regret all the times I've said if only I have more time, I could do this and this and this. I guess the truth is when I have time, I don't feel like doing any of it. Cherish your busy life, really.