My wife reminded me of some more names:
Schnoz-boz, Limpalot (when she hurt her foot), Limpalottie, Pupster McPup.
The physical memory of her presence is what feels so remarkable to me. Sitting in a chair and expecting her to come over and rest her head in my lap…
I read that part of the feeling with the loss of a pet - especially to euthanasia - is the instinct to still want to protect them, but having nowhere for that instinct to go. Rings true.