The Tie That Binds

Loving Bela is now the largest common thread between Mike and me. We like to cook, we like the Bulls, we like to play games. But we love Bela. We love to touch her, feed her, observe her, play with her, talk to her, talk about her... She has become the center of our bed and our world. He is cast in a beautiful light as her father; I hope there is a similar halo about me.

There is no time I cannot melt when she is referred to. When we can't see eye to eye - we talk about her poo.
She's like glue.
She's a reminder of sowing what you reap. An example of what we are both capable of bringing out in someone.
Mike's mother states that when she dies, she wants to come back as our dog. Something so treasured, so revered, so very well taken care of.

As odd as it may seem, Bela is a reflection of us.
When I peer into her pretty eyes, I should feel more than an outward love for her. I should feel pride at what I've helped to create. I should see evidence of what two people's love can manifest.

Our love for her can bring us to our knees.
It is strong and unbending, stable, unending.
It is all that I heard love was supposed to be.

Damn her little neck and hunter spirit.

If Bela is anything, she's a hunter.  After adopting her, it took many outings before I realized that what I coined 'going out for a walk', she saw as a hunting expedition.  She hunts an average of 4 times per day.  She likely sees this as inadequate.  The fact that she happens to urinate, etc., while out there hunting is a killing of two birds with one stone.

Speaking of birds....
Yesterday, on our 'walk' to the park (wherein we then simulate hunting for roughly an hour, with a tennis ball), Bela spotted a little brown bird on the sidewalk.  Before I even fully took the bird in with my eyes, Bela had taken it in her very own mouth.  "Drop it, Bela!", I screamed! -- and -- to my surprise, she did.  Just like that.  Just set the bird right back on the sidewalk, no harm done.  She had picked him up in a gentle way, so as to investigate the mouthfeel before crushing his tiny bones.  But then Momma said no and so he had to go.  She didn't even look back at him as we walked away. 
This exemplifies the occasional guidance/leadership I have over her.  This power-like thing all but disappears when she is tempted by a squirrel...or...hell...any one of these witnessed things:

Brown paper bag with empty 40 inside
Cat
Toy Plane
Lightning Bug
Rats
Geese
Dog [with non-traditional dog stance/body shape]
Ants
Plastic Bags

This huntress means business.  If there is possiblity of a meal - or a thrill - she's on its trail. 
Though I am constantly adjusting her harness (for she can easily pull off her collar, when needed), pulling on her leash and begging her to "leave it"...the truth is I am enthralled and enamored with her hunting.  She is an animal.  A beautiful, strong animal with the desire to survive.  And while I can't exactly let her eat every bag, squirrel, cat and rat out there on the streets, part of me wishes I could.

Bela in the A.M.

Each morning, upon Mike's departure, Bela climbs back into the bed and replicates being in my womb.  When I have to get up and deny her this time, I am filled with regret. This morning, I got up to make coffee and so she left. Sought refuge on her red couch. She looked so cute I had to capture her! The couch always happens before the skunk-play. A raucous round with her stuffless skunk is how I bid her adieu.

Leaving Miss B.

It's 6:30am and I am preparing to leave for a 3-day trip to Charleston, SC. I keep looking at Bela with guilt in my eyes. I am going to miss everything! Everything...for these 3 days! Every feeding, every walk, every jump at the park. As I prepare to leave the house, the thing I look forward to most is my return.

Bela's birthday.

Tonight, she had a steak, broccoli and red potatoes. On a red plate. A person's plate. She was confused when we brought it to her feeding area, but was able to accept it happily. A proper birthday meal.