So, I hope Bella would not think I am "cheating" on her, but I have been poring over the dog websites, like Petfinder.com, AAWL, etc. I came very close to fostering a beautiful Yorkie-poo, but the rescue organization who was holding her, dropped the ball. I am cruising the websites again, but need to have that "wow!" moment before I will commit to fostering or adoption.

In the meantime, Bella was deathly afraid of getting into the pool with me. I did buy her a life vest, (note photo below, she is looking into the pool) and made her get into the pool with me that first summer so I could show her where the steps were, and how to get out.  She was pretty cool about getting out, not so hot about staying in the water with me! Even though I was holding her tightly. That is fine, I wanted her to have a "healthy fear" of the pool. On the other paw, she loved taking a shower/bath! Go figure. I would go through our usual steps of getting ready, laying out her towels, running the water, talking to her about the shower, and on more than one occasion, she would jump into the tub on her own! Funny girl!
                                               

She was great too about going to the groomer. She loved Melanie. She was usually very good for her, and would sit and let Melanie groom her, cut her nails, and otherwise poke and prod her as needed!

Bella had several surgeries during our life together. She was spayed, had bladder (not kidney) stones removed, had her anal glands removed (long, gross story), and had a growth removed from her forehead. Not to mention teeth cleanings for which they are under general anesthesia. Her final illness was beyond me. This monster which invaded her little body could not be fixed with surgery. I felt so helpless in those last few days. She was drinking copious amounts of water; I could not keep up with her. I would leave fresh water for her at night, and in the morning her bowl was dry! She was throwing up all of the water (pills and food too). That last weekend I resorted to giving her ice cubes just to keep her mouth comfortable. I would hold them for her, and she would lick. She could keep down the little water she was getting from the ice. Alas, it was not enough. I do not remember the exact measurement now, but the vet called to check on her and said she needed at least X ounces of water a day. What she was getting from the ice cubes just was not enough.

So, in the end was I the cause of my baby's demise? That is the question I keep asking myself. I am afraid to ask the vet, because I am afraid of the answer. As I sit here, tears welling up in my eyes, and dropping onto the keyboard, I wonder whether I could ever responsibly mother another fur-baby.

Bella, my Lovebug, no worries. For the time being, you are, and will remain my only puppy. Love you, Momma.