Once again, my dog Bella is teaching me. Bella is a fluffy, white mixed-breed, approximately 15 years old. I say her age is approximate, because 13 years ago, Bella walked into my life. The veterinarian I took her to told me she appeared to be 18 months to two years of age. She had no identifying chip or tags.
Bella wandered into my life at just the right time.
A few months before, on July 4th, my shepherd mix Duke had shocked us all by jumping a 10-foot fence when he became terrified of the fireworks. Unheeding, he ran into traffic and was hit. Not only heart-broken that Duke was killed, I was also filled with guilt about not being a more careful pet owner.
So, when this mangy looking white dog ran toward me across a high school football field, I held out my arms. She ran directly to me, as if to say, “okay, finally I found you.”
We’d found each other.
Her hair, twisted into dreadlocks, was long, almost to the ground, making her look like a floor mop. A really dirty floor mop. Without a second thought, I put her in my car and took her home.
My husband and I were newlyweds. He’d never had a dog, and he and Duke, the recently deceased shepherd, had never really bonded. (It didn’t help that exuberant 80-pound Duke had once taken off with my husband, dragged him along the street, giving him road rash, and a bruised ego.)
I told my new husband that this sweet new dog, much smaller than Duke, would never drag him anywhere. I pathetically looked up at him, “Can we keep her, please?”
That was 13 years ago. We called her Bella, uncreatively naming her after the street we lived on, Bella Vista. She was our baby. Once she was clean and had her hair clipped, she was a beauty. But Bella did have a few idiosyncrasies.
At first, she refused to eat. Then, one night, soon after I found her, we were eating tacos for dinner. When a bit fell to the floor, Bella went nuts gobbling up every speck. Mexican food was obviously her favorite. Since I’d found her in a Mexican neighborhood, we suspected she’d been snacking in garbage cans, like the Tramp from Lady in the Tramp. For a while, to get her to eat, we mixed Mexican food in with her kibble. Eventually, she got used to a regular dog diet.
She also was a bit of a runaway. If she saw kids walking to school, she’d bolt away from us and chase the children. Eventually, however, Bella realized that she had it pretty good where she lived, and the runaway behavior stopped. However, she still loves children and Mexican food.
What has Bella taught me? She’s a quiet dog, fairly undemonstrative.
Several years later, she was joined in our household by a rambunctious dachshund named Ramona. Ramona is an attention seeker. When I arrive home, Ramona jumps all over me, licking me, demanding to be petted.
Bella hangs back, politely waiting for me to come to her, then wallowing in my attention. Bella has taught me to give affection to the less-demonstrative one, to see that great love can be offered in a quiet way. Is it any surprise that I identify with Ramona and, my quiet husband, with Bella?
About seven months ago, an observant groomer noticed a lump on Bella’s jaw. Dr. Dean, our dear veterinarian, biopsied the tumor and reported that it was cancer, but that removing it entirely would leave Bella without much of her upper jaw.
We took her to a veterinary surgeon specialist, who did more tests, and concurred. Possibly, there could be jaw reconstruction, but on a 15-year-old dog, that seemed cruel. Dr. Dean debulked some of the tumor and Bella seems pretty comfortable.
However, knowing this type of cancer, the doctor advised us it would regrow, which it has.
So, Bella is teaching us important life lessons. By loving someone or something, you run the risk of loss. But, she’s teaching us even more: we never know how long we have, so we’d better enjoy each and every day.
We go to Sunny Fields Park often with Bella and Ramona. It’s Bella’s favorite place. She’s slowed down, but still luxuriates in this beautiful spring we are having, rolling and prancing and sniffing the grass. And in her quiet, undemonstrative way, she lets us feel her love.