Bella

A sit here typing, tears are streaming down my face and there's a hole in my heart. No, I'm not mourning for a lost loved one. I'm mourning for a dog, a stray dog at that. A few days ago this petite, salt-n-pepper Australian Shephard mix walzed into our front yard and into our hearts.

As I have written on earlier occasions, I live in the Hill Country of Texas; for the most part still a very rural area. It's not uncommon for stray dogs tp appear in our yard. Their owners--I'm trying to be nice here--just tire of them and dump them in the country to suffer a slow death. Most of the time we usually call a rescue group or the pound; but this dog was different.

She had a look in her eye; a look that said, "I've had a horrible life and need someone to love me. I don't think I can make it by myself. Help me." She was emaciated, and cringed when I made a move to pet her. She also whined constantly, which told me that she had been abused in addition to having been starved. I was livid; if I could have had her former owner in front of me, they would have been crindging and crying after I got through with them.

I just couldn't turn this dog in. I went into town and bought her food. Over the past few days, with patience, I got the dog to come up to me. Before long, she was accompanying me on my nightly walks. She strolled causually in front of me, her mouth opened in a wide doggy grin. She knew that at last, she had found someone to love her. I made up my mind yesterday that we were going to keep her; how I was going to tell John was yet another obstacle to overcome.

Every dog has to have a name, so I called this one "Bella," for both her spirit and her appearance was "beautiful."
Needless to say, Bella was missing this afternoon. After talking to John, he solemnly told me that someone had hit and killed my new friend.

Though I mourn for her, I know that at last she has found peace.