I've had to make difficult decision regarding animal friends I have had. Some I regret when I think about feelings of missing. All were necessary at the time. And the time of the decision would not have changed the decision, but in hindsight sometimes I forget that. Today I miss most particularly my cat Sage and my dog Bella, both of whom are no longer with me but still occupy a special place in my heart. Below is a piece I wrote about Bella in particular.
June, 2010
She
came to me in the rain, the pouring rain, driven down from Berkeley, California
by a former City Councilman who was looking for the right home for his beloved
dog. He lived on a boat and the dog could not be kept on the boat any
longer according to the rules of his marina. He owned her for year or so,
after having adopted her from her previous owner who had died. When Bella
arrived in the actual pouring rain, during the time of the metaphorical pouring
rain in the months after my husband died, she was lead to my door, scratched on
it with her paw and walked inside like she was home. Satisfied, the
former council member thanked us, and got in his car to drive back to
Berkeley. He loved this dog that much to drive over 700 miles to
find her a good home. I soon learned how much I also would do for this
dog.
He said she was housebroken, and she was not, we soon learned, but he also said
she was a good dog, and good dog she was. Smart, too. An escape
artist as well. At 65 pounds, not a small dog, she not only tried to dig
under, but climb over ordinary barriers in the backyard. I placed bricks
around the perimeter she she couldn’t tunnel under, and plywood around the
tree, so she couldn’t climb in and jump over the fence. It took a while
to figure out that escape route for me, I didn’t know dogs climbed trees.
Although, I also acquired a cat that plays fetch, so my understanding of
the animal world is imprecise at best.
Bella loved tennis balls which she buried like bones and dug up to chew until
they were pulverized. She didn’t know fetch, only run and get the ball
and guard it until she had time to bury it after I lost interest in seeing if
she would give it to me. She talked to me with a howl when she was
frustrated that I wasn’t paying attention. A gentle dog, she was fiercely
protective of me until she knew I was okay with the person. A hunter in
many ways, she caught several possums, rats, birds, and lizards.
The first time Bella caught a possum she delivered it to the back door in the
middle of the night and stood barking. I awoke and climbed out of bed to see
what she was barking at. As soon as I stepped outside, she picked the
possum up, took it a few feet away, dropped it, and started barking at
it. This is when I understood what “playing possum” meant. The possum
would not move, Bella would not stop barking and trying to protect me from
it. I learned, over the years, that when Bella caught a possum it was a
two person operation to extract it from her. One person distracting Bella
with a treat and the other person scooping the possum in a shovel and removing
it from the area.
Bella was the queen of what became a menagerie, added bit by bit and introduced
ever so gently, opening up Bella’s big heart even more. Bella got along
well with other dogs outside of the house, but what would happen when a
new dog came into her domain? About a year after we rescued Bella,
who was then about four, we decided to add a puppy for Bella to play with, we
hoped. Sadie, a purebred Golden Retriever pup, who we brought home when
she was about four months old, still in downy fur, was the antithesis of the
chill Bella. Sadie barked if there is a gopher three blocks down.
When Bella barks, something is amiss. Sadie is wired. She runs, she
jumps, she hops, she almost skips. Bella moves at the speed that is
necessary, taking it all in. At their first meeting, Sadie ran under the table
and when Bella headed for her, I had thoughts of possums. I picked Sadie
up and introduced her nose to nose. The introduction was built up
over days and after time, Bella became a ‘new’ dog. She and Sadie played
and romped.
When, about a year later, we added two kittens, the introductions took longer,
on both parts. But now they are animal friends, sisters all. With
Bella as the grand old dame.
About a month ago, Bella developed an ear infection. Antibiotics and
prednisone cleared that up. Then, a couple of weeks after, she contracted
some sort of skin infection which left her smelling rank. When I trimmed
off her fur to get to the source, I found a growth. A very large growth,
just under her tail. When I took Bella to the vet this time I mentioned
the growth. He said once the infection cleared up he wanted to remove the
growth. He said she actually had two of them. He said they were
melanomas. He said if they were in her mouth, he would be discussing
euthanasia, but he said she could have some time still. I asked about how
much it would be and the receptionist said $200 or $300. A lot, but for
another year or two with Bella. Not a lot.
Today when I went to pick her up from surgery the Vet was more concerned.
It was not good news, he said. The prognosis was hopefully two to four
years unless the cancer had spread to other organs. I left the vet
in tears. I love this dog. I do not want to lose this dog
right now. I have lost many people that I have loved and yet I have never
lost a dog that I have loved. Not loved as much as this dog. She
has such heart. As she’s laying recovering from her surgery, I walk into the
room. Her tail wags. Her tail always wags when she sees me looking
at her. She is the dog that loves me without question. It’s
not about the treats I give her or that I feed her or that I pet her. She
is always focused on me. She is what people mean when they say a
dog is a companion. With Bella I feel safe and protected. She came into
my life at a time when I needed safety and protection. And now, I will
protect her during the last time of her life, no matter how long, no matter the
cost. She came to me in the rain and brought sunshine into my life,
I love this dog. I love my Bella.
And I still do,
even though she no longer lives with me and the menagerie which now consists
only of Sadie. The cats needed to be rehomed, and Bella, my beloved
Bella, with heart until the end, lived two more years before it was a difficult
but right and kind gesture to offer her peace. One other day, I will
also write about that decision that ended her pain but wracked my soul. I
miss her.
No comments:
Post a Comment