Bella and the Tree
Bella Lapointe, a Rottweiler, was, in her 12 years on earth, the most gracious of all big dogs. Her gleaming coat and soulful eyes were evidence of the aptness of her name. In physical shape and personality, Bella was truly a beauty.
I have always found the practice of saying only nice things about the departed a little uncomfortable and out of integrity. I was at a friend’s funeral once and when all the tributes were over our mutual friend Lindsay turned to me and asked, “Who were they talking about?” I agreed with the sentiment.
However, had Bella been a human—and it so often seemed she was—her life on earth would have been worthy of the sweetest and most heartfelt tributes. She was a very good dog.
Earlier this month I wrote about my sorrow at the loss of my fig tree. Bella’s presence in the neighbourhood is another indescribable loss, not just to me but to our neighbourhood.
I am in a test cycle month, a 4/2, and in an ending 9/7 cycle year. The evidence of these two realities keeps piling up in tests and endings. Life in my small part of the world will never be the same in the absence of my fig tree and the gracious presence of the beautiful dog named Bella.