Bella

The day you first came home, I was so happy I cried. And I still remember you looking up at me, tilting your little head, wondering why. 🤍

Bella, I need to tell you something I never said out loud.

There were years when we had almost nothing. Nights I sat at the kitchen table doing the math over and over, hoping it would come out different. Some weeks I didn’t know how we’d make rent. I bought the cheapest bag of food and told you it was the good stuff. You ate every bit and wagged like it was a feast.

And all that time, you never got sick.

Not once when it really mattered. No vet bills I couldn’t pay. No night where I had to choose between you and the rent. I used to think it was luck. Now I think you knew. I think you held on and stayed strong because you could tell I was barely holding on myself.

You didn’t need much. A walk, a warm spot by my feet, me coming home. When I had nothing to give you, you still looked at me like I was enough.

Later, when things finally got better, I wanted to give you everything. The good food, the soft bed, all the toys. But by then you were getting old. You gave me your healthiest years when I was at my poorest, and I’ll never be able to pay you back.

So thank you, Bella. For staying well when I couldn’t have saved you. For being the one thing in my life that didn’t cost me anything except love.

I hope you knew you were never a burden. You were the reason I kept going.

I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.

I love you. Always.