Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Bella the Boxer, Run free old friend!

Until recently, I owned some recreational property where I spent many weekends and part of the summer holidays. While there, I got to know a couple with a beautiful boxer named Bella. I absolutely adored Bella and I think she really liked me too. The only time the couple and I talked to each other or saw each other was at that property, and I haven't been there for almost a year.

Day before yesterday, when I got home from work around 3:00 I took my dogs for a walk in the pasture as usual. Suddenly I thought of Bella and wondered if she had made it through the winter - last time I had seen her she was very old and had advanced Cushing's disease. I came into the house to see if I had the email address of the people. Then I got sidetracked so didn't follow up.

Yesterday I got a phonecall at work. It was Bella's mom. She tearfully told me Bella had passed away. I mentioned the coincidence that I had just been thinking of them. When had Bella passed away? She had been helped to pass at 3:00 the previous day.

Inceasingly I believe that if we allow ourselves to be open to it, those who have passed on can and do let us feel their presence. In this case, I have a feeling the coincidence of me thinking about Bella at the same time she was passing from this world was partly Caleb's doing. The last time I was at the rec property, I had just adopted Caleb and I introduced him to Bella. I suspect Bella's arrival at the Rainbow Bridge went something like this:

Bella: Hey I know you! You were loved by that funny woman at the creek!

Caleb: Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's me! We met last time our hoomans got together!

Bella: I like her! She always had treats in her pocket!

Caleb: Well, c'mon then! I'll show you where I lived! You can say hello to her - she's sitting on her bench at the top of the rise. C'mon, C'mon, let's go!!!

Thanks, Caleb, for bringing her by for a fleeting visit. Run free, Bella, you were a great dog and never failed to make me smile with your silly slobbery grin. Your family will miss you terribly, but they'll see you again one day at the Rainbow Bridge.

1 comment:

Karen said...

I was thinking of an old friend who hadn't crossed my mind for ages a couple of months ago; I learned the next day that her husband had been killed in a helicopter crash. I don't think these are coincidental either.