Good Dog, Good Bye.

Bella, our beloved yellow lab, past away on January 15th. Our Valentine puppy was exactly one month shy of her 12th birthday.

She was a 10-year old pup, full of energetic tail wagging, greeting all who entered our home with more excitement and playfulness than was comfortable for most. When she reach a decade of age life's rigors finally began to show. A puppy turned suddenly into a gimpy old maid. She had been slowly falling apart for the past several years, suffering from the normal creaking joints of old age, then more recently and seriously from nerve degeneration causing tracheal paralysis and other complications. A tumor erupting at the back of her tongue a few weeks ago was her final endurance.

I've still been in the habit of walking with the boys in the early evening, before supper, as Pebe says. It's strange to turn and look for Bella as we make the final turn for home on our usual neighborhood circuit. With stiff legs and a wandering nose, stopping to sniffing sweet pee on a bush or munching on a petrified bit of garbage at the sidewalk's edge - yum - she was our tail gunner on most walks, lagging me, the waddling Rhys and Kelly speeding expertly on his Like-a-bike. I look but she's not back there, no need to urge her forward and around the corner toward home, a home now missing a long-loved member of our joyous family.

Bella was loved by all the boys. Rhys, who's language was busting into full bloom as Bella spark waned, liked to order Bella around. With an animated hand gesture and thick, halting tongue Rhys would command her, "Bell-ha nooo! Bell-ha nooo!" or "Bell-ha maat, Bell-ha maat!"

She was a good sport and put up well with the occasional harassment of the little humans. Fair deal in her mind, I bet. The little humans dropped previously unknown food and flavors on the floor for her enjoyment during the final, difficult phase of her life.

A few days after Bella was missing from the house, Kelly hadn't asked about her, so we had a talk. I asked if he noticed if anyone was missing from the house. He being the logical minded 3-year old he is started listing off all our family members not in the room: Grandma Mary, Pebe, mama, Rhys, Beanie, Uncle Pat.

"Yes, all those people aren't here in the house right now, but who's not here that normally licks up food that Rhys drops on the floor?"

"Oh, Bella. Where is she?"

"Well, you know how we tell you and Rhys to be gentle with Bella because she's old and she's been having trouble eating? What happens if you don't eat?"

"You're not healthy."

"Yes, exactly. Bella hasn't been eating and she hasn't been healthy. She's been sick."

"So, you took her to the doctor?"

"Yes, we took her to the doctor yesterday (Kelly refers to any time in the past as "yesterday").

"Oh, wait, I want to show you something," Kelly interrupts and trots off to grab something off the kitchen island. Prancing back to our conversation spot at the round, walnut kitchen table, Kelly struggles back up in the chair and exclaims, beaming, "Stickers!"

"Do you do a sticker project at school today?"

"No, I just found these in the playroom."

"O.k., well let's put these down for now. I want to finish talking to you about Bella."

"So, Bella's been sick. So, we took her to the dog doctor, the vet. The vet found something in her mouth that wasn't letting her eat called a tumor. You know how you have teeth in your mouth, and tongue and lips, all things that help you eat and are supposes to be there?"

"Yes," Kelly replied smiling and showing me his teeth.

"Well, the tumor is not supposes to be in her mouth and isn't letting her eat. Like you said when you can't eat, you can't be healthy and Bell couldn't eat, so she died. That's why Bella isn't here anymore, she died."

"Where is she?"

"Well, she died, so that means she's not living anymore and that's why she's not in the house."

"Oh. So, Bella won't be living with us anymore."

Not convinced Kelly was understanding this talk entirely, I asked, "Do you have any questions?"

"Yes, can I play with my stickers now?"

Kelly is a sharp, scary smart 3-year old, but death is a concept, apparently, just beyond his understanding.

We love you and miss you, little Bella.

Good dog, good bye.