A Strange Inheritance: Bella and Agatha Christie, a tail of love #fortheloveofdogs#strangeinheritance

I'd been thinking about writing a children's book about our dogs, Bella and Agatha. They are unusually close as one rarely goes anywhere without the other. Aggie without Bella is truly a sad sight though Bella gets along without Aggie far better. How these dogs came into our lives is truly a Strange Inheritance. 

I had a friend who fought a hard battle with heart disease and eventually lost her life. The day before she died, she asked me to take her dogs. They had been kenneled while she was in the hospital and our son had been urging us to take them home because the kennel, while clean, was still a kennel.  I agreed to become a pet parent to Bella and Aggie but I had to admit they were going to be a hard sell to the husband. We already had one dog at home that was deaf. Adding two younger dogs might be difficult.

My friend was quite wealthy and she'd left her money to fund a foundation for animals called PPAST. Bella and Aggie were to be semi-benefactors of the trust fund and it was agreed all their medical and general pet care would be taken care of until they died.  We also received 100.00 per month for food, which rarely covers everything they eat. At first, I admit, I told her I'd take them because, really, what else could I say? Inside, I planned on finding them good homes and thought I'd talk to the foundation about splitting the 100.00 per month between the two new pet parents. I almost talked my neighbor into taking Agatha the second day they were at our home.  

That night, the unthinkable happened. I was on the bed watching television when the husband picked up Agatha and put her at my feet. A few minutes later, I felt something staring at me. It was a strange niggle at the back of my mind that made me look down at this odd little black and white animal that no one, including her past owner, considered in the least way intelligent.

Those liquid black eyes were locked on me and I had the distinct impression she wanted me to do something. I patted the bed and the next thing I knew she was butting her head into my chest, her little tail going faster than the speed of light, and she made this weird thrumming sound because Aggie, as we learned later, doesn't bark. I was a goner in a moment.  I felt like Sally Fields when I yelled, "She likes me! She really really likes me!" 

Bella, however, was a different matter. Bella is a black lab that had been found up in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The vet estimated she'd been living without human contact for quite some time. Consequently, Bella was harder to get to know. Aggie was predisposed to love humans while Bella was, in a word, standoffish.  She tolerates a rub now and then, a bath if I insist, and she demands to be walked every single day. If she doesn't get walked, she talks up a storm, which is a mixture of a howl and a wail that goes on and on and on.  

After the first year, Bella developed glaucoma and Aggie severe asthma. These two conditions require constant, and I mean constant, attention. After nearly losing Aggie the vet put her on theophylline 2 times daily and an inhaler 2 times daily. Bella had to have immediate surgery to remove one eye and then 6 months later had to have surgery to save her good eye.

The foundation was wonderful. They paid for surgery and the medications, but it was and continues to be, my husband who puts in the time with both of them. Bella continues to need eye drops sometimes 6 times a day, sometimes 4 times a day, but never less, all depending on eye pressure of course, as well as the time taken to run her back and forth to a specialist an hour away. We also have an emergency kit of medicine that will pump Bella full of a liquid that will force her to urinate, hoping the loss of water might save the good eye during a bad attack. Aggie's asthma is bad but manageable with treatment though her constant cough is horribly sad to hear.  

Even with on-the-spot care, Bella's eye sight began to dim. While this was happening, Aggie went deaf. Fox Terriers are prized for their white coats, but it comes with a catch. The white coat carries the gene for deafness. Bella soon became Aggie's ears and Aggie became Bella's eye(s). Literally. They walk together, sit by each other, lick each other's boo boos. I wasn't sure how Aggie was going to take Bella's surgery and complete blindness, but because they are so close I kept my camera ready. These two special dogs are precious to watch.  

The surgery was quick and ruthless. Bella had a football sized fatty tumor on her side and a softball size tumor on her liver that was cancerous. I had wondered about the tumor we could see, but we were always told that her eye took precedence. This time, it was a different story. Not only were the tumors huge, they had wrapped themselves around Bella's stomach and spleen. The dog we came to visit after the surgery was a good 10 pounds lighter.

We also discovered there is no surgical aftercare in the foothills. We were told that Doggie ICU is run with the pet parents taking their fur babies home at night with sedatives and bringing them back first thing in the morning for the day. I was a bit baffled by this and then terrified as they handed us the sedatives, the antibiotics, the pain pills and wrapped up her IV tubing. She was sticky with blood and looked near death. My husband put her in the car and I drove home in a state of near panic. 

We put Bella in the living room on her big bed and Aggie, as usual, lay down next to her. Every now and again, Aggie would get up, sniff her buddy then lay next to her again. I've always heard stories about dogs who love their owners so much they lay on their graves after they are gone. Aggie's concern with Bella broke my heart with its simple beauty. It was a demonstration of love so profound that I cried.

Bella refused to eat and after 3 days we were scared to death. My sister-in-law who also has cancer showed up at the door with jars of baby food in her hand. I thought it was silly but at this point, I was ready to try anything. Bella lapped it up. A little later, we put a doggie treat under Bella's nose. Aggie promptly walked up, ate it, and sat down, staring at Bella as if daring her to try to eat one with her around. I immediately got another treat and dropped it under Bella's nose. Aggie lunged for it and Bella ate it. Aggie laid down, content with a perfect mission accomplished. 

Yesterday morning I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat on the couch before heading out the door and back to Doggie ICU.
As I said before, Aggie communicates with me by her stare. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear that dog gets in my head. I didn't realize she was at my feet until I looked down. Today was a bit different than her usual I want a treat or can we please go for a walk. I distinctly heard Aggie say,  "What the hell have you done to my Bella?" 

I was so shook up, I couldn't keep the camera still and so the picture is blurred, but seriously, this was one pissed off black and white Fox Terrier who didn't know what the heck we were doing to her ears. I sat there explaining to Agatha that Bella had cancer and it wasn't our decision. That the doctor was on the board of the foundation and the decision to do the surgery was his and his alone and he had said that he thought he could help her. I explained that I did not want to put Bella through this, but it was not my call. 

I explained that Bella had two tumors, one the size of a soft ball and the other the size of a football.  I told her it was a long shot that Bella would live and I hoped she would understand. A few seconds later, Aggie butted her head into my shins and I knew she would be OK. I looked at Bella, wrapped in bandages and wondered if I should have told the doctor to piss off and put her gently to sleep. 

Except things were different now because something miraculous had happened. 

Bella, our standoffish lab finally lost her heart. This skinny pooch now demands our constant attention. We sleep next to her to give her comfort and pet her when she whines. She licks both our hands when she never licked us once in the years we've had her. We know when she is hurting and she allows us to help. Unfortunately, the one eye we have worked so hard to save is now completely opaque, so when Bella came awake from surgery, not only was she scared and hurting, she was also blind. 

Amazingly, to the veterinarian staff anyway, Bella is recovering. I hit Petco to buy her special baby food, matching collars and leashes for the two dogs and am sending the bill to PPAST. (Sorry James.) Then I had another epiphany last night and wondered if Bella was afraid to walk because she couldn't see. I ran outside and brought in her new leash and collar and put it on her. Bella walked while I led her. Once again I cried.

I hit the Internet learning about blind dog training. Now, we are in the process of 'mapping' the house with rugs. The foundation bought her a blow up neck pillow along with all the stuff you do for humans, a dry bath wash, some special treats, potty pads AND wipes. Her IV has been removed and I took off the Fentenyl patch this morning. I found her staring into a corner and decided it was time to get sober. Just kidding, but not about the staring part. The vet did tell us it was OK. Amazingly the scar will run from her throat to her potty parts. The vet had to rearrange her spleen and stomach and then at last, her liver. She is going to be sore for a long time, but she is Bella, our stoic one who has decided to love again. 

In the meantime, Aggie watches us take care of Bella in complete contentment. If my friend were still here I'd give her a hug, for while as medically challenged these two dogs are, they have brought more love and laughter into our home than I'd ever thought possible. Then again, we could just be crazy like our kids think we are.