Bella Strong
She came in as K13, from a South Texas kill shelter. A friend who doesn’t know much about dog rescue asked me what K13 meant. I decided to give a straight answer — dogs in shelters often don’t have names, only kennel designations. On the day she came to us, the entire K kennel was scheduled to be euthanized and Bella was the unlucky 13th on the kill list.
She was emaciated, depressed, kidney failure. Would Barking Mad Animal Refuge find a place for her? It was April 2017. We were full and closed to intake but up she came anyway. K13 became Bella to us and won everyone’s heart.
She was so pitiful, so sick. One of the volunteers crawled into the crate those first nights and slept with her because we were afraid she was going to die despite all we were doing for her. She barely moved…lay there taking all her meds, lethargic. We still wanted to give her that chance.
I am the pit bull lover here at BMAR, everybody in East Texas knows that. I had her placed directly in front of my desk so I could monitor her without so much as turning my head. Even ill, I recognized that glint in her eye. I know a scrapper when I see one. And she knew I wasn’t fooled.
I told all the bleeding heart volunteers, hey, be careful with her, as she gets better she is going to show her true colors. Oh no, they said, she is so sweet she will never change.
She got better, having a fighting spirit, and the big heart of her breed. Responding well to our homecooked foods and kidney medications — plus the stuff in the holistic meds cabinet — Bella packed on weight, felt good, and the attitude came barreling out. “I told you so” I muttered constantly when everyone came running to me every day for some mischief she had caused for the umpteenth time.
Brought before me to be properly chastised, blocky head tucked, glancing at me sideways with a sly smile, and that scrapping glint in her eye — no one can punish a gal like that. Bella had her own security run built, her own containment yard, her own play things, and she found a companion heart in my son Justin, who also admires scrappers.
Though we did put her up for adoption, let’s face it. There are very few people willing to take on a girl like our Bella. They just do not have the resources we have here.
First off, I admire the tenacity and quick thinking of a powerful pittie. Females are tough and she had a joyous pleasure in causing havoc. Bella became a permanent sanctuary resident and lived life as she wished. No punishments, just allowances made, and she settled in, no longer a problem dog.
The muscled up, fat healthy gal never caused us health scares again. Until yesterday morning. She had eaten her goodies with relish the day before. But upon visiting her first thing in the morning, Justin paged me right away. “Mom! Bella’s lethargic and looks awful just since last night. Something’s really wrong.” Hailey leapt from her chair and ran across the farm to check. Sure enough, not a good report. She scooped her up and raced off to the vet.
Bella’s bloodwork was so high off the charts some of it could not be measured. The vet wondered why she was still alive; said she should have died in the night.
Bella had complete kidney failure and her organs were shutting down. There was nothing to be done. She deteriorated further on the exam table. It was agonizing and extreme.
There was really no other decision to make. We could help her cross right then or we could load her in the truck and watch her die on the way back to the farm. No, we didn’t need the extra euthanasia expense for an obviously dying dog, but no one was going to make that girl suffer one more minute longer. Bella — K13 — left us with her dignity intact and a soulful sigh. And the loving arms of family around her.
Upon reflection, I want to tell that vet that Bella didn’t die in the night because she wanted to say good bye. She knew she was loved; a scrapper always knows that. She waited for her folks to tend to her so we wouldn’t have to wonder if she died alone and in pain or what the hell happened to her.
From the tests she had, we know those bad kidneys just gave up and quit. But because of the love and care she received here, those kidneys lasted 7 years longer than they would have. So, at the age of 10 our girl left us after living a pretty good life and giving us a pretty good what- for while she was at it.
Was she expensive? Yes, for sure. I would do it all again. I would take her again in a heartbeat even knowing all that I know now. Without rescues like BMAR, would any of these dogs survive at all?
I will see her again…no spring chicken here…it will be soon. And you can bet as I approach the gates, I will be looking for that smile and scrapper glint. I know she will be there waiting for me. We recognize our own.
We are BMAR…and we are #bellastrong
