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Bella
I first met my Bella baby a little over two years ago. She was an 11 year old cocker mix saved by a cocker spaniel rescue in New York after having been found as a stray on the streets of the Bronx. My poor baby was the saddest looking thing ever, she was so skinny (then 32 pounds, she eventually weighed a healthy 55), the fur between her paw pads was at least 6 inches long, and she had a head collar on to prevent her from chewing out stitches from three places: a growth removed from her chest, a dog bite to her behind, and a spay surgery. I knew she needed me, and I needed her just as much. She cried the whole way home to New Jersey, but soon she decided to trust me, and trusted me more than anyone else for the remainder of her life. A week later the test results came back and her growth turned out to be a cancerous mammary tumor. The rescue offered to take her back, but I was in love and determined to see her through. With their help, she had several lumps removed from her other mammary glands, and for two years after that she was cancer free.
In those years she was the light of my life. When all else seemed bleak, it was her funny little waddle walk that made me laugh out loud every day. She was such a character! I loved to watch her sleep sprawled out on her back, snoring away. She was a feisty, independent girl who would only receive pets and play on her own terms. And she was a notorious scavenger, getting into anything and everything she could. My favorite Bella story happened early on when she managed to unzip my bookbag, find a Ziploc with a couple Jolly Ranchers, and chew through it all to get at the candy. I came home to pieces of plastic wrap scattered across the living room. When I asked her what she'd done, she looked up at me with the most innocent expression on her face. And that's when I noticed a grape Jolly Rancher glued to her chin. "J'accuse!" I said, pointing to the evidence, and as she realized I'd discovered her secret, she tried to slink away. But who could ever be mad at a face like that, and I immediately gave her cuddles and assured her it was okay, we¡¦d just have to cut the candy out of her fur.
Bella loved visiting her grandparents, and would make a beeline for the house and into my father's study to find him as soon as we arrived. She had them pretty well trained. She would lie on her back and demand constant belly rubs by putting her paws around her nose. She would give a paw when she wanted a treat (before you asked her for it or even offered the food). And she would beg at the dinner table with those big eyes, a head on a lap, and if that didn't work, she would even resort to talking. My little princess always got her way. She loved lying outside in the grass, or going to the beach and watching the waves from under her own private umbrella.
She made the move with me to DC in June, and adjusted well to her new city life. But soon after we came here, she developed a malignant oral melanoma on her upper gumline. We tried surgery to remove it, but it ended up growing back within a few weeks. She hated the vet more than anything, needing to be sedated to do even the most simple of tests, and I couldn't blame her. After all she'd been through, I couldn't ask her to go through endless vet visits and tests only to prolong her life by a few months. So I took her home and spoiled her as much as I could as the tumor grew and grew. She was a real trooper through it all, but as it took over her mouth and nose she became more and more tired and had a hard time eating. She let us know she was ready to head over the rainbow bridge with her sad eyes and labored breathing. Her whole family; me, my parents, and my brother and sister went with her to the vet to say goodbye. She knew she was loved. She peacefully went to sleep as I held her in my arms and sang her a song I'd made up to comfort her during thunderstorms. Now I know she's in the meadow enjoying the sunshine, nose up and ears blowing in the breeze, tumor-free and able to scavenge for yummies once more.
Thank you, Bella, for adding so much beauty to my life. I miss you my darling, and I will always love you, my sweet baby girl.
Love, |
