Bella: Week One

For a stretch of one year and one month, the house was empty of dogs for the first time since 1998. Though many offers came along, I wasn't really in a good place to take in another fifteen year commitment, but a unique opportunity presented itself: an extended dogsitting gig for my buddy Paul.

Bella is no stranger to this blog, having appeared as a model with a Rob Roy and with a bottle of Barefoot. She and I have always gotten along great together, even though Paul has done the hard part of raising her, training her, and getting through the chewy furniture-destroying phase.

What type of dog is Bella? Some sort of Jack Russell mix, though I've always thought that she looked like she belonged in an old Three Stooges, Marx Brothers, or Little Rascals film. She'd awkwardly tug on a tablecloth and reveal the knuckleheads hiding under the table, or would chase alongside the kids on bikes, or bark and alert her owner that shenanigans were afoot.

I've settled back into the routine of life with a dog more quickly than I thought I would, though she's so easy to handle that it requires zero effort on my part. She puts up with my snoring, doesn't mind the piles of wine samples scattered around the living room, and curls up into an adorable little ball on the end of the bed at night.

Welcome, Bella! I hope you enjoy your stay.