Ciao Bella

Tonight I am so devastated that my heart can barely write the words but I simply have to so at least I remember them someday.

No, it is not a man, it is not my job (current or future), it is not a friend, it is not a family member, per se; tonight I say goodbye to my dog, Bella.

I have been thinking of a thousand words to describe Bella but none of them do her justice. I sit here tonight, the last night I will likely ever see her again, and try not to cry. One, because I am so emotionally worn out by the past two months of turmoil that my own soul has just about moved to an emotional Tahiti because no matter how much Xanax I take, nothing is enough right now. Second, because she is going to a happy home and me sitting here crying is going to nothing but upset her too and that's just not fair.

But Bella...my Bella. How I will miss her.

I love animals. Hell, it is even fair to say that I love/like animals more than humans sometimes. I worked as a veterinary technician for almost 13 years of my life, have, along with my best friend, Connie, saved about every animal out there that there was to save, and, in the meantime, have had a few "real special ones."

The first one was my dog, Emily, a black Shih Tzu mix who found me when I was seventeen and as close to insanity and suicide as I could get. I think, rather than describe what she meant to me, I will let you read the "Author's Note" to the serious of essays I once hope to publish:

These stories, invariably written in Austrian airports, Vietnamese hostels, Thai hotel rooms, or at my own kitchen table, are not meant to reflect historical or cultural accuracy. Rather, they are my own musings and observations on life. If I have offended anyone in the process or have gotten some of the details wrong, I offer my wholehearted apologies.

I owe this collection, and the inspiration for it, to thousands of people in dozens of countries who let me be a voyeur in their lives for a few weeks or a few years and provided me with fodder for writing. I can’t list everyone…but you know who you are. A special shout-out goes to my friends in Hungary. Thank you for tolerating me, adopting me, and showing me what, ten years later, I still think is the best country in the world. You have my heart forever.

In particular, I dedicate these essays to four people and to one dog.

First and foremost, to my mother, who agreed to bring me into this world and, upon being my mother for the first 24 hours of my life, declared, “Holy shit…this one is going to be a HUGE pain in the ass!” Nevertheless, without her guidance and constant willingness to set me back on the right path when I lost my way, I wouldn’t have made it this far.

To Connie, my best friend since I was 17 years old. Words cannot express the debt of gratitude and friendship I owe, but thanks for being one of the first people to recognize that I had talent and encourage me to write. And I am truly sorry about burning up your living room that time; I promise I will repay it in Depends and Sunday drives.

To Ed, my friend for over a decade who patiently read every one of these stories, often to his own chagrin, and endured me asking, “Is it funny?...Why aren’t you laughing?” And who let me go so far away so many times only to always meet me when I came home.

And finally, as far as humans go, to Jason. I know we have fought like soldiers at times but I am happy we can finally be friends. Thanks for taking a chance on me.

But I dedicate these essays to Emily above all else. She was a small black dog who agreed to be my friend and companion for about ten years. She loved me when I thought everyone else didn’t and loved me just as much as I thought everyone else should. Dogs (and animals) are special to all of us and this dog was so important to me. She got me through graduate school by sitting at my feet late at night and saying, “You can do this, just give it another hour…” when I wanted to collapse. She had an amazing soul and was my first audience.

Emily died two weeks after I returned from Africa in late 2003 in a freak accident. I miss her spirit perpetually but feel her love constantly. I now have, in no small part thanks to Emily, a wonderful new companion who has very much the same happy soul that Emily did…I never thought I’d get two chances at this kind of love. Just goes to show you how kind life really is.

Her name is Bella…and she sits here under my feet tonight as I write these words.

Life is kind but, mostly, life is beautiful.

It’s our job to find the beauty.

I got Bella in January of 2008 and have not stopped loving her for one minute. Not even when she ate the most expensive piece of artwork I had ever purchased, shit multiple times on my Oriental rug (not the cheaper rugs, mind you...if you're gonna potty train, take the Turkish wee-wee pad from 1910, right?), destroyed my brand-new couch in two days of eight-week-old chewing, and then threw up on my head in bed that night at 3AM after too much upholstery.

But, to be kind, as much as I want to take Bella with me to Africa, it just wouldn't be fair. There are myriad reasons, and none of them have to do with money or effort, but just a "gut feeling" that Bella would be better off here. So I have decided to give her to my wonderful dog sitter/pet walker, Christina, who has two young boys who will provide her with all the attention she needs and Chris and her husband, John, are animal lovers to the extreme (and I know animal lovers). I know she will be well-loved, well-cared-for, and happy, ultimately.

She's just not going to be mine anymore.

And I know, I get the "we don't own people or pets or things, ultimately," lesson, but god it hurts so bad. She wants to play fetch non-stop tonight and has decided to skip her normal bedtime of 10PM to stay up with me. She doesn't seem depressed and I am still managing not to cry but...jesus...this is hard stuff.

Bella is one of the happiest dogs I have ever met....she was just born that way. And I regret now all of those weekends when I could barely pull myself out of bed to take her on the long walks she wanted because I was so consumed with myself that I discarded all the opportunities she gave me to play and get out of my own head...

But even happy, smiling Bella couldn't do that either.

That's another reason why I am going to Uganda.

And ultimately, that's why I am so in her debt and I think that, although she senses my sadness, she is happy I am going to Uganda too and still willing to stay up with me tonight, one last night, and be happy. Or at least put on a good show.

But, Lord, am I going to miss her and her happy, smiling face every morning and her willingness to snuggle with me every night...even when I was crying and miserable.

Maybe, just maybe, I do have good karma with animals. I have saved a bunch in my time, as has my friend, Connie, and a whole bunch of other folks.

I only pray the Universe is kind enough to help me find another Bella.

But, for now, ciao Bella. My beautiful