Six Months

The anniversary of losing Bella just passed the six month mark and I wanted to update this blog.  She is still very much in my thoughts and I still take frequent walks to "Bella's Corner" in a way that mimics the daily (actually 2-3 times daily) tennis ball retrieving sessions we'd have down at the barn.  As I prepare to leave the house I will very quietly, but still out loud, say "C'mon girl, let's go for a walk" just as I would have done when she was alive. I will look closely at the places she'd have stopped to pee, or where she'd have purposefully walked with her head and tail carried high.  Along the driveway approaching the barn I often look to my left and recall how she'd excitedly move along the grass right beside the gravel driveway.  At the corner that's now marked as "Bella's Corner I look across the grass and through the maple trees and remember how much she loved being there.  After a few minutes, I say" C'mon girl, lets go home.  Let's get a treat".  That was always enough to get her moving towards the house.  And as I walk back home, I recall how she'd carry herself and the different routes she'd take to go home.

I think a lot about life and death and what happens to a living being when they die.  I am not religious and don't believe in God.  I don't think there's a heaven or hell.  But maybe this is making become "spiritual".  I want to believe that something of Bella remains.  I look to the sky and wonder if her spirit or soul or life force is still there.  I feel like part of her still exists and maybe I am carrying that inside me?  For now, I think that's it.  It is more that just my memory of her...I think that I am carrying Bella's spirit (for lack of a better term) inside of me.  And whether or not that is true and provable is just not important.  It is enough for me to feel her spirit in me.  I can settle for that.

My mourning for Bella has transitioned.  I still come to tears on occasion, but it is becoming much less frequent.  The pain I felt for months has subsided somewhat.  I am more focused on remembering her personality and remembering her habits and behavior.  I miss her terribly and I doubt that will ever fade.  But it is easier now than before and I'm grateful for that.

For now I am content to savor her memory and to lovingly carry her spirit in my mind and heart.

I love you Bella.

Three Months

Today marks three months since Bella left us.  There has not been a single day since then that I have not thought about her.  Nearly every evening I do a walk to her favorite corner by the barn and imagine her trotting along, eagerly preparing for a tennis ball retrieving session.  I talk to her (memory) as I would have when she was alive and the sound of my voice, saying exactly what I'd have said to her, makes it seem a bit more real.  I try to remember the details of how she looked, how she moved and what she did throughout the walk.  As often as not it brings a tear to my eye.

I miss you deeply sweet girl.  You were my best friend and closest companion.  Life is not the same without you.  I think you had a good life and although I wish it would have been longer, we did the best we could for you.  Living on this beautiful farm with all the freedom you could have asked for was better than most dogs have it.

I love you Bella.

Our Walk

I have developed a routine that has become part of my day.  Every night around dusk I quietly whisper, "C'mon Bella, let's go for a walk" and I go out the front door and down the steps as if she was right beside me.  Just like we'd do when we were headed to her corner by the barn to retrieve tennis balls.  I walk along the driveway and picture her excitedly walking along with her ball in her mouth, head and tail held high.  Often she'd drop down to the willow tree and turn to see if I'd follow.  Usually I didn't and she'd take the hint, run back to the driveway and head for the barn. 

Once I arrive at her corner I envision where she'd be standing, looking at me, waiting for me to draw up beside her.  My eyes move from the corner fence post and scan the grassy area where we'd play.  I close my eyes and imagine seeing her running after the ball as she'd done thopusands of times before.

After a few minutes I say aloud, "C'mon girl, let's go to the house."  and then "Let's get a treat".  Those words were all it took to end the retrieving session and set her in motion for home.  I then imagine her walking beside me back to the house.

The pain of losing her is subsiding, though I still miss her dearly and wish that I had done more with her and that I had more pictures and video to look at. 

Emptiness

Its been over five weeks since Bella died and I still mourn her loss on a daily basis.  Multiple times each day I will turn a corner in the house and, without overtly thinking of her, I'll expect her to be there.  Its an instinctive reaction formed by thousands of repetitions over eleven years.

Of course as soon as this thought occurs it washes away as I acknowledge the reality of her death.  It produces the feeling that I am alone, without my best friend and constant companion.  It leaves me facing the permanence of my future without her.  The futility of wishing it weren't true and of wishing I could spend another hour with her presses in on my brain with an unshakeable weight.  It is a dark, hollow sense that fills me up and weighs me down.  It is an emptiness that I cannot push aside.

Bella was part of my life for eleven years. She brought me joy and satisfaction, she amused me and amazed me, she was my partner and best friend.  She fill up a very large part of my life at a time when there were few friends in my life.  At this point in my life Sherry has moved away from me emotionally, spending very little time with me and this has left me with an empty plate. 

Bella did her very best to fill this up and I loved her dearly.  Her companionship did a great deal to give me a relationship that I could count on every day.  With her passing, this emptiness has come roaring back and I have no idea how I'm going to replace her.  I've thought, ever so briefly,  about another dog but I'm not ready for that...and wonder if I ever will be.

Passion and Guilt

Yesterday I did my daily walk to Bella's Corner.  It begins with me going through the motions of gathering Bella and her Chuck-it and heading out to the barn for a phantom retrieving session with her.  It's often a very emotional session for me in which I am flooded with memories of her.

I thought about our last real session on Saturday, May 11, 2019.  She showed me all of the passion for what we were doing that I'd come to expect and had witnessed on a daily basis for years.  What I did not understand at the time was that she had five days left to live.  And that in just two days, she'd be unable to stand on her own.

It occurred to me that she must have been feeling awful at the time.  She could not possibly have been free from pain or other serious symptoms on Saturday.  And yet, there she was tearing after that tennis ball as passionately as ever.  She was somehow able to overcome the pain and sickness she must have been feeling to do what she loved.  This is the gutsy, fearless nature that Bella showed throughout her life.  I am so proud to have been her owner and friend and to have seen her passion and bravery up close.   She was an amazing animal and I miss her so much.

On Sunday, May 12, 2019 I decided that I need a break from Sherry and spent an entire day driving in the mountains.  This was to be Bella's last good day and Sherry told me that she chased tennis balls and hunted lizards all day in her garden.  I am so glad that Sherry got to spend an uninterrupted day with Bella and that Bella had one more of her trips to the Garden.  It occurs to me that I could have been with her as well, but instead, had a self-indulgent day of feeling sorry for myself.  I blew it, I missed out on her last good day on earth.  I will regret this decision for the rest of my life.

What I Miss

Its been three weeks since Bella left us.  I have her ashes and distributed some of her over Bella's Corner near the barn, on the front yard and below the willow tree.  The rest of her is on my nightstand where they've been a morning and night time reminder of her, though she's been in my thoughts every morning without any reminder necessary. This morning I scanned the pine trees to see if her silhouette is still there.  It wasn't.

The title question popped into my mind this morning.  There are lots of things that I absolutely do miss.

I miss our walks and watching her retrieve tennis balls.  She put such energy and passion into it.  She moved athletically and had so many sliding, leaping, twisting, turning, flipping moves and it was fun to watch her go at it.  Sometimes she'd bungle a move and it would be embarrassing, but she was usually poetry in motion.  As she matured she became a very powerful animal and watching her unleash that power and passion was so much fun.

I miss her working us for treats.  She loved Milk Bones and she had ways of begging for them that were interesting.  She'd lay on the floor in front of the laundry room (where her treats were stored) and stare at me.  Sometimes she'd bark.  Once she saw a connection between a treat and an action (like coming back into the house) the treat thing was one way....she'd NEVER pass a chance at that treat.  The instant she thought there was a treat coming, she'd salivate and would lick her snout...her anticipation was clear.  I don't regret a single treat I ever gave her.

For the past few years, every time I'd eat an apple Bella would either see, smell or hear me and come running to me.  She'd learned that I was going to share the apple with her and she loved apples.  This afternoon I decided to have an apple and my first thought was...Bella will want some of it.

I loved the feel of her muscular body and her sculpted head and ears.  The back of her head came to a beautiful point and I miss the feel of this point.   I miss holding, grooming, massaging and petting her.  She loved certain of these activities, but HATED grooming.  OTOH, she LOVED being massaged and would stand for 20 minutes or more. 

I miss the daily activity around caring for her...feeding, filling water supply, taking her out for 1&2, scooping her poop, telling her "kennel" at night (if you waited long enough she'd go by herself) and getting her out each morning by 7:00AM at the latest.

I miss her beautiful reddish blonde coat.  I'd often find myself staring at her coat; admiring the various textures and colors.  I loved the soft curls on her ears and smooth fur on her head.

I miss fighting with her over grooming.  She hated it and it made it difficult to keep her coat in the condition I'd have liked.  Still, it was her coat and I figured that if it got bad enough, I'd just cut it off.   Seemed to work for us.

I miss the mental connection we had.  She was extremely obedient and almost never needed to be corrected.  The hand signal system we developed to help her locate a "lost" tennis ball worked well and it was fun to have her look at me, asking for and accepting my help finding her ball.

I miss taking her for rides.  These were sometimes in my SUV, but mostly in the Kubota RTV.  She LOVED to ride seated next to me and I usually draped my arm over her shoulder to ensure that she could not slip out.

Bella Comes Home

Today I dropped off the payment for Bella's euthanasia and cremation at Clarkesville Vet.  Coincidentally (or maybe not) I got a voice mail from them telling me that Bella's ashes were back and could be picked up.  Hearing someone say "Bella's ashes" hit me like a hammer in the head and it immediately brought tears to my eyes.  Although I've thought about her cremation every day since she died, the reality of it all was driven home with that simple voice mail.

On my way back home from driving to Athens with KC to return the equipment we rented for Jon and Keila's engagement party, I dropped by the vet.  Fighting back my tears, I entered the vet's office for what is, in all likelihood, the very last time.  I approached the counter and told them why I was there.  Minutes later, with the box containing her ashes on my lap, I drove home.

After dinner I took a portion of her ashes and walked around the farm dropping ashes in her favorite spots...in the front year, beneath the willow tree, along the driveway going to the barn and at Bella's Corner where we spent so much time retrieving tennis balls.  It was  a deeply emotional experience for me.   I think I'll keep the remaining ashes in my night stand where she'll be close to Sherry and I.

Bella has come full circle and is now back at the farm, her home and playground for her entire life .  It doesn't ease the pain of losing her a bit but I do take some comfort in the life we helped her to have.  She lived a full and active life on a farm that represented her universe with a half brother and owners she loved.  She was loved as fully as any pet has ever been loved and I will think about her every day for as long as I live.

I love you Bella.