It was time. We let Bella go a few hours after we got home from visiting my sister in Santa Fe on Tuesday. I had scheduled an appointment for her with our veterinarian for the following morning, based on what the pet sitter had been reporting to me about her condition, but she was clearly unhappy, so we went ahead and took her in late that night.
She had been slowly deteriorating. I almost euthanized her last week before we left, but she rallied–again–and I couldn’t bear to do it. I am sad that I was gone those last few days, but in a way I wonder if it was necessary. Maybe my absence helped her to detach and to be ready to go. Maybe I am just trying to make myself feel better. It did help to have the neutral opinion of the pet sitter, someone who didn’t know Bella except from staying with her for a few days.
It was a gentle passing. I held her in my arms while the very nice veterinarian administered the injections. Jerry was right by my side.
Twyla seemed upset after we got home and the next morning, so I called to see if Bella’s body was still available for viewing. I’ve heard that it helps some animals to realize why the missing one is gone, so I took her and Harper in to say their farewells. As it turns out, they were completely uninterested, giving a quick sniff and then retreating under the chairs in the exam room. It was therapeutic for me, though, to get to see her one last time. They brought her in arranged as if she were in a bed and it just looked like she was asleep. And at peace. Before we left, I tucked a treat inside the blanket with her.
Good night, sweet Bella.
Photo and painting by Terry Albert.
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