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.