Bella

Bella always came to me whenever I would call

Because she loved our little chats;

And when we'd play fetch down the hall,

She would bring back one of my favorite hats.

When she was just a pup,

She bonded with her Mom first;

When it was time to sup,

Her face would plunge into her bowl completely submersed.

On our weekend excursions to the park and lake,

She was always first out the door and into the car;

Mom and I brought up the rear in her wake,

Mom driving, her navigating, me in the back with my window ajar.

She would lunge down the path with Mom hanging on,

What a beautiful pair they were!

Like a carriage with a horse being drawn,

And if we allowed her to run, she became a black, white and brown blur.

More often than not, she would stop where she was running,

And with a question on her face look around;

It was just to make sure that Mom and I were still watching,

And would continue her play, off with a bound.

There were nights when I'd feel her jump upon our bed,

And lie between us, Mom and me;

And I'd scratch her tummy and pat her head,

Knowing there has always been something special between me and she.

And now she's dead.

There are nights when I think I feel her.

Climb upon our bed and feel her fur,

And I pat her head.

And there are nights when I think I feel that her stare

And I reach out my hand to stroke her hair;

I search the space diligently and with care,

But she's not there.

Though her life came to a tragic end,

Bella will always be my closest friend.