Isabella

My son had been taking care of his dying father. He was out of the state where we lived. When his father died we all went to pay our respects.

It was a sad time of course. My children had lost their father.

When it was time to return home my son said that he had decided to stay. He has always felt more at home where my husband and I grew up than where he grew up. And I had long planned to move back here when I was ready. He would have a place for me.

The main problem he had was that he knew nobody here. He did not want to be all alone.

We spent my final days here having the utilities transferred into my son's name. Then we wondered what to do about a companion for him. He wanted a dog.

I suggested seeing if the veterinary in the next town knew of any dogs that needed a new owner. My son wanted a female dog that was not too big and not too small.

The vet had one dog listed. It was a female of mixed heritage. The vet called the phone of the owner and had my son talk to her. He made arrangements to pick the dog up right away.

When my son saw the dog he felt that she was exactly what he wanted. The woman said the dog was a mix of Great Dane, beagle, and something else. The rescue society had done DNA testing.

 The dog was used to being outside. It lived in the garage and fenced-in back yard. It obviously liked the woman and the several small children she had. The woman's husband no longer wanted the dog so she was happy to find a home for it.

She gave us a bit of background. The dog's name was Isabella. She had been left to die in an abandoned house with no food or water. Even though she was a small puppy she had been physically abused. She was now almost two years old.

The woman also gave us the remaining food the dog had as well as a small dog house and a wire cage for her to ride in.

My son called the dog Bella for short.

Bella disliked men. Extremely. She loved women and children. And here she was stuck all alone with a man.

It took a long time for Bella to learn to trust her new master. Truthfully I am not sure she ever completely trusted him but it was the best she could do. The severe abuse had left serious scars.

Still my son worked hard to make her his friend. She depended on him for everything. Eventually she began to sleep in his room. She liked to sit on his lap even though she was close to being as big a he was.

Bella loved riding in the car. She never tried to jump into the front. We took her with us as often as we could.

She also liked walking on the hiking trails with my son.

What she liked best of all were her toys. The first toy my son bought her was a simple squeaky ball. He called me laughing and had me listen to her running back and forth through the house. She was squeaking the toy and crying with glee. I guess she did that for about 3/4 of an hour.

When Bella was about 8 years old she got to where she had trouble moving. We took her to the vet. She had cancer in her joints. We had to put her down so she would not suffer anymore.

She was a good dog. My son gave her as good a life as he could.