It’s Bella, not Taco Bell

They used to call her Taco Bell, but that wasn’t her name. It was Bell.

Belle.

Like Beauty from Beauty and the Beast, Belle. It should’ve been, anyway.

They used to not feed her properly, just bits of table scraps sometimes. And she was already a tiny little girl, but even smaller because they didn’t take care of her right.

I remember in 2009 when my mother first adopted her, and told us of the abuses she went through with her other owners. It sounded bad, and I was glad she wasn’t there anymore.

However, when she first brought her in, I didn’t think much of her. Almost like a stick, wagging her little tail, and looking up at us expectantly, my mother told me her name was Bell.

I said, “Just add an a at the end. Make it Bella. Like that chick from Twilight.”

“Because she’s pretty like her?” My sister asked.

“No, cause she’s bland and boring. Like those movies,” I said and walked off. (Sorry for anyone who enjoys Twilight. Lol I was a bit brash as a teenager!)

The name stuck, and everyday I grew more and more attached to this little pup, with or without public acknowledgement.

You might be asking why I was a bit flippant about this first meeting with our beloved Bella, who is a big part of our family and who is my oldest son’s greatest first love.

Well, my whole life(childhood) has been a endless whirlwind of animals. Lots of dogs. Lots of heartbreaks.

My mother, God bless her, was a serial bring and take ‘em back sort of owner. The word owner being a very loose term.

We’d get dogs coming and going so often I felt like we were just foster families for them.

One week, a black lab, Pepper.

Another week, a larger dog who barked too much, named (I don’t remember since it was so short), something I wish I could recall, but they ended leaving before a week was up.

One time, I was cheeky enough to bring in a stray dog from the street! Needless to say, that dog wasn’t here long! We had to send him to a shelter.

Needless to say, I had had enough of falling in love with dogs just for her to take them back for any minor inconvenience —-so I had built up a wall in between Bella and myself. Luckily, for Bella, and us, my mother kept her for the long haul.

But, things changed for me when I had my first son, Ismael.

He loved dogs even more than I did, and animals in general.

My mother saw this empathy and love Ismael had for Bella whenever we would visit, and decided to give her to us as a gift, to add her to our family.

I fell in love again.

Bella became my lap dog in a lot of ways. When I was sick, she would sleep on me, making me feel warm and comforted.

When I was relaxing after cooking or cleaning, she would lay by me, no judgment, just chill. She really was there for us, no matter what!

She gave my son lots of joy too, and that was something immeasurable to me, as a mother.

We call her a princess, a lady, and our little girl.

She is our Bella.

Not Taco Bell.

Not Bell.

Just ours. And we are hers!