It was 5 weeks ago today, on Monday, March 30, 2026, that Cindy and I awakened to know we would be saying goodbye to Bella that day. It was one of the worst days of our lives.
Even with everything the veterinarian did and prescribed for her during our visit to his office on the previous Saturday, Bella’s condition continued to deteriorate. He had told us that her kidney failure had progressed to stage 4 and though she MIGHT last a few more weeks or a month, it would probably not be long before she succumbed to its ravages. We held out hope, but sadly watched her condition decline more and more over the weekend.
By Monday morning Bella had still not eaten or had a bowel movement (two of the things that caused us to take her to the vet’s office on Saturday) and simply refused to go for a walk with Cindy. She was also losing her footing in her back legs and stumbling, a sign we had been told would signal the end of any quality of life for our sweet, sweet girl.
Back when she was first diagnosed with stage 3 kidney failure in March of 2024 during our stay in Austin, Texas, the vet there said we could not expect her to be with us for more than 2 months. Cindy and I vowed then that, as painful as it might be to us, we would not let Bella suffer. That never changed, but we have been thankful every day for the past 2 years of the unexpected and extra time we have had to spend with our furry family member.
We took a final photo of the three of us together, in front of Nomad, as we had been for the past 4 1/2 years while we traveled around the country. Cindy and I were trying not to sob in front of our girl, but it was almost impossible. Bella had been a part of our lives for 13 days shy of 15 years on that day, and our constant companion in the RV since my retirement.
During the 30-minute drive to the vet’s office we continued to try and not weep as she took her last trip with us, lying in her bed in the back seat as she had for so many years. But the sense of impending loss was so overwhelming that we had to keep wiping tears from our eyes and trying not to sob with sadness. Bella has always been attuned to our emotions, feelings and moods. We did not want her last memories of us to be sad ones, but it was SO hard.
We arrived at the vet’s office and they could tell by our faces that we were there to say goodbye.
They took us to a room off to the side and a very nice nurse came in and said she was so sorry. We went over what would happen; that she would give Bella an injection to sedate her and she would go into a deep sleep, then the vet would give an injection to stop her heart and Bella would never feel a thing and her pain would be over. Sadly, we already knew all that from having to do the same thing with Tigger a couple of years ago. Then she left to get a blanket for us to use on the floor. We just kept telling Bella how much we loved her while petting and hugging her. The nurse came back with the blanket and gave some treats to Bella and told us to take all the time we needed, and we needed it.
After several minutes the nurse returned and we told her we were as ready as we could be. We weren’t, not at all, however we couldn’t let Bella suffer any longer. But you’re never really ready to say goodbye. The nurse said she would be right back with the first injection.
The nurse returned and Bella pressed herself against my legs as the nurse gave her the injection. We spread out the blanket on the floor and Bella very quickly laid down on her right side as the sedative took effect. I laid down next to her with my chest against her back and my head by her ears, stroking her head and whispering to her how much we loved her and what a good girl she had always been. Cindy sat by her back legs, rubbing her legs and paws and telling her how she was the best girl ever. We were still trying not to cry, wanting to send her off on her next journey with all the love and good feelings that we could.
The vet came in and he was so kind. He said he knew how hard this was and how much we loved Bella. Then he gave her the final injection as we continued to pet, stroke and whisper to Bella.
While we laid there next to her on the floor it felt, to me, like something else was happening.
In my mind, Bella was standing between Cindy and I as we stood on each side of her, our hands petting her head. It was dark around us but in front of us was a heavy fog and through the lower portion of the fog we could see the beginnings of a footbridge glowing. Cindy and I were telling Bella that it was time and she took one step forward, then stopped and looked up at both of us as if to say, “Aren’t you coming too?”
“It’s not our time yet” I said, “but it’s ok for you to go. We love you so much!”
“We’ll be along later good girl” said Cindy, “you go find Tigger to play like you used to, and look around for Wolfie too. We will always love you!”
(Bella had come to us months after Wolfie’s passing, so she never met him. But it was funny; at the cabin Bella would never go near the spot in the kitchen where Wolfie had passed away. She would walk around it but never walk through the spot, as if she knew.)
The vet put his stethoscope on her chest, right next to where my left hand was as I laid next to her with my arm around her…
Bella turned her head to look at each of us one more time with those beautiful brown eyes of hers that always held so much love, then stepped forward onto the bridge and we watched her disappear into the fog.
“…She’s at peace” I heard him say as my hand felt her heart stop beating.
And Cindy and I could not hold back our tears any longer.
The nurse and vet told us to take all the time we needed as they left the room. We hugged and petted and stroked sweet Bella as our tears fell onto her fur.
She was the best girl ever!
