She wasn’t even my dog, so I’m not sure why I feel so sad whenever I think about her. She wasn’t even particularly likable – in fact, she liked less than a handful of people, though I’m oddly grateful and touched to be counted among them. She especially despised children and often looked like she was waiting for just the right moment to take a chunk out of their little ankles. She wasn’t too fond of dogs either.
Bella was a miniature Schnauzer, though she didn’t exactly conform to the breed’s standards. Her fur was too fluffy, her coloring too light, and her legs a little too short. She was a good watch dog, ever vigilant in case we weren’t aware that there are killers lurking inside the garbage and recycle trucks, the mail truck, the UPS truck, the FedEx truck, and random cars, trucks, and tractors driving down our country road. She was frightened by storms and spent many nights tucked under the toilet in the bathroom, waiting for it to pass. She also enjoyed letting herself into the bathroom whenever you were there, just in case you needed some company or wanted to scratch her around the ears. She appreciated belly rubs and would claw you with her front paw if you stopped prematurely.
Yes, I’m sitting on your bed, so?
Bella did not appreciate my efforts to dress her up for the holidays.
Hannah was always optimistic that one day Bella would like her – she tried to play with her almost every day, but was nearly always rebuffed, especially if I or anyone else was watching. Despite the size difference, Hannah was scared of her and I think it’s safe to say that Bella was the alpha dog.
Hannah optimistically checking to see if Bella wants to play. The answer – no.
I snapped this picture in the dark – actual proof that they were sleeping on the same bed.
Despite expensive medication and diligent hospice care, Bella lost her battle with heart disease. It still feels weird not to hear her little nails tapping across the floor, or the scratching sound she made when she was ruffling up all the rugs in the house. The living room seems strangely empty without her bed and it’s so quiet now without her barking.
It seems somewhat foolish to have pets, knowing that they are noisy, messy, hairy, smelly, sometimes downright annoying, and perhaps, worst of all, that we will likely outlive them and deeply grieve the loss. On the other hand, they love us when we’re unlovable, do silly, ridiculous things to make us laugh, snuggle us when we’re sad, and give us a reason to get up each morning. Rest in peace, Bella – you are missed!
Please take a moment to tell about a special pet in your life – I’d love to hear your stories!