See you later, Kneesaa.
Our little baby girl, Kneesaa left us for heaven last Tuesday morning.
Around 7:20ish I was still at work (I work graveyard shift) when I received a text message from David asking what time I'll be home. I responded through a phone call because 1) he's never really asked what "specific time" I'll be home. 2) He's supposed to be at work, why does it matter? I asked him if he's okay. He said he is but he's not at work. This worried me. I asked if something bad happened, he said he'll tell me when I get home and not to worry about it.
I rushed home as soon as I can and the moment I walked in the house and David asked me to sit, I knew something BAD happened. I straight up asked what the hell is going on and I saw the pained look on his face as tears start to roll down when he told me "Kneesaa died this morning". The statement didn't really sink in right away. All I could say was, "WHAT?" and I looked into the bedroom trying to listen for Nini's playful growl. Then it hit me. "What? She's dead? WHAT? What happened????", I asked. At this point, I was in hysterics.
David told me he didn't really know what happened to her. He got up, started to get ready for work, he let the doggies go out the backyard for their morning routine (drink, potty, run around) and as soon as he was dressed for work, he went back and let them in the house. Then he noticed Nini wasn't in her kennel so he went back and as he opened the back door, he found Nini laying on our back porch unresponsive. She was barely breathing.
David rushed her to the vet. When I say rush, I mean like 100mph-driving rush. Our lil Nini didn't even make it to the vet. They told David that she was already gone and there was nothing they can do. David said he could barely get up to his feet when they broke the news.
I was in disbelief after hearing the story. I asked my husband if she was in pain or something was wrong with her that morning and he said no. She was still playing with our cat, Reese. Nothing out of the ordinary.
We went back to the vet where Nini was so I can say good bye to her. On our way there, tears kept rolling. I told David I don't think I can see her that way. But I summoned all my courage and did it.
The vet tech came in with Nini wrapped in a towel embroidered with butterflies. I thought to myself, that is fitting for our little Panini. She really looked peaceful. Her eyes weren't all the way shut and the tech said that's normal. They also said they don't know the cause of death. She didn't have any bite marks and no signs of being poisoned.
As soon as the vet gave us our alone time with Nini, I broke down. I lost it. I bawled my eyes out and hugged her. I kept telling her to wake up and kept telling her that I love her. David did the same and it was heartbreaking seeing my husband so devastated. I know he love Nini. He fondly called her his "wittle giwl".
We probably spent half an hour in that little exam room with Nini. We even took photos. I regretted not taking enough photos of her. I had quite a few on my phone but still, I wanted more. And more than anything else, I want her back. I want her spunky, feisty, funny, vocal, cute self back. But I know it's not happening.
David and I decided to have her cremated. Why? So that we can take her with us. We move a lot and we don't like the thought of leaving her here in Nevada.
So, there goes the story. Every bit of it. It's painful to keep answering people on my Facebook over and over again about what happened so I decided to write it all here.
It's been only two days since she left us and the pain is still fresh. It hurts a lot.
I know we still have Belle and Tod and I love those two very much, but there's that void. There's an empty space where Nini used to be. There's a silence when there used to be her playful growl filling the air. There's no more tugging on the seams of my jeans as I get ready for work. There's no more cutesy hugs from her. There's no more lil munchkin who follows me around, even when I go to the bathroom or when I take a shower. There's no more her, no more Kneesaa.
Knowing and accepting that hurts like a motha. I miss her.
David and I are going through the grieving process. We know it's out of our control and we know she's in a better place. We just wished she didn't have to leave us so soon and so sudden.
To my dear Kneesaa,
Mommy and Daddy loveyou very much. We miss you a lot. We miss your playful nature. We miss your silly noises. Tod and Belle miss you too. We hope you're happy up there with Brookelynne. We'll see you someday. You'll be missed forever.
Stay happy, baby girl.
Sweetest dreams, my little Nini.
