A Prayer for Bela-Rooskie

For three weeks I've had writer's block... but not for lack of things to share.  November 30th our dog, our first baby, Bela, died.  I haven't been able to write about it; but writing about anything else seemed like ignoring the elephant in the room and a disservice to her importance in our home.

She's left a huge hole in our hearts and home.  I tear up when I throw away the cheese rinds I would normally have given to her, my schedule still feels strange without two daily walks; and when I do get out to the campo I swear I can see her running through the trees just ahead of me--I expect her to come panting up to me with her pink tongue hanging out, her Dobby ears pulled back in little half moons on either side of her head and her lips curled up almost into a smile.

I cannot push the button to open the garage door without remembering how she'd wriggle out before it was even a foot open to come bounding out and greet the car.  I expect to see her spread out in the sunny spots of the lawn on nice days and when I get up at night for a drink, I still automatically look to her corner by the fire hoping to see her curled into a sleeping ball.

We are very slowly beginning to heal.  She was hit by a train.  I am comforted slightly knowing that it was very quick and I'm sure she didn't suffer at all.  Angelines and I burried her by the tracks, something for which I am also very grateful because we have a place near home to be able to visit and mourn.  She was such an extraordinary dog that even other people have taken flowers to her grave.

This has been Emily's first introduction to death and it's been very interesting to watch her go through the mourning process.  We told her right away that Bela had died.  I am not a fan of those who hide death from kids with euphemisms or avoid the subject altogether.  She spent the first days saying that she missed Bela and asking where she was and why she wasn't in her house.  Then she started calling herself "heaven" and many of her animals die and are burried under blankets.  She happily declares that they're dead and then says she's visiting the grave and taking flowers...  She still gets sad, like we all do.

I am amazed by how deep her feelings are and how well she expresses herself.  The day after Bela died, we took Emily to put flowers on her grave and say "good bye".  She didn't want to say good bye, of course and I think was a little confused by the pile of rocks we were calling Bela; but before we left she bent down and gently stroked one of the larger stones saying, "Goodnight, Bela. Goodnight".  And then as we held hands on the way home she stopped and said, "I don't like missing Bela."  "Neither do I," was all I could answer.

Today I was going back through old blog posts and looking at videos and pictures from when Bela was a puppy.  I don't like missing her, but it feels good to remember all the wonderful times we had together and the pure joy and energy she brought to the home.

We love you Bela.  I will always remember you like this:

Emily was "painting" Bela's "fingernails" with chalk!

My girls: ready for adventure

Last year in the snow...