Mum, Dad, my brother Michael: everyone in the family got more affection from our ridgeback-staffie cross. And guess whose bed she used to poo on…
I think the tone was set when Ella threw up over me on the way back from the Dogs Trust. She was three months old, rolling around on the back seat between me and my twin brother, Michael (we’d just turned seven), and wasn’t enjoying her first trip in a car. She could have been sick anywhere – over the seat, over the floor – but for some reason she decided to climb on to me first.
It was the start of a beautiful but strangely one-sided friendship. Ella, a ridgeback-staffie cross, was the perfect dog: playful, energetic, naughty and tolerant. She would let us poke and prod her without complaint, turn her ears inside-out or dress her up in T-shirts or the thick woollen poncho my Greek Cypriot grandma knitted her for the British winter. And she was endlessly loving, at least to the other members of the family. Me? Too often it was as if I didn’t exist. If Michael and I were sitting on the sofa, she’d bound up to him. If I came home after a day out with my dad, he was the one she’d jump at. If I tried to take her for a walk by myself, she’d drag her feet and insist that I fetch my brother.
To add insult to injury, about once a year she would do a poo in the house. Not just anywhere, though: she’d climb the stairs to my room and leave it in a neat pile on top of my bed.
I can’t pretend I wasn’t offended by Ella’s attitude – I loved her just as much as anyone. But it took me a while to realise that in her eyes we were both bitches fighting for our place in the pack. I read that dogs are 98.8% wolf, even yappy little chihuahuas. Ella was a definite she-wolf and my mother (she who opened the tin of dog food every night) was the undisputed alpha female. Ella could handle that fact, but she didn’t want to be the omega female. That was me.
Working out the reasons for Ella’s lack of sisterhood, understanding that her indifference was atavistic and not just casual, didn’t make me any less jealous of my brother, who always took great pleasure in the fact that Ella seemed to prefer him. But I resigned myself to the situation. And then one day (happy ending, anyone?) everything changed. I must have been 16 or 17, we’d been away for a fortnight in France, and when we got back it was me she ran up to first, whining and twisting with pleasure at seeing me again. After that it was like all those years of competition had never happened. We were best friends for ever, or at least for the couple of years she had left. Ella finally loved me.
Touching Moment: Two Dogs Bid a Tearful Farewell to Their Ailing Mother
Daisy, a caring and dedicated Border Collie, has cared for Max and Bella since they were puppies. They were not her biological children, but she adopted them as her own. They developed an unbreakable bond, creating a family unit defined by love, not blood.
Daisy was getting older, and her quick steps were fading. Her loyal companions, Max, an elderly golden retriever, and Bella, an energetic beagle, cared for her as she had done for them all their lives. They felt her pain, her declining health, and her weakness.
Daisy’s illness worsens, and Max and Bella become her caregivers. They would caress her, provide comfort with gentle licks, and stay by her side all day and night. The roles have been reversed, and they seem to have realized that it is their turn to care for their sick mother.
Max, with his deep, loving eyes, slept close to Daisy, his presence bringing comfort. Bella, who was usually full of energy, took it upon herself to be Daisy’s fun distraction, bringing some joy to her otherwise terrible days.
Daisy realized her time was running out one sunny afternoon as she slept in her favorite spot in the garden, surrounded by the flowers she loved. Max and Bella noticed the gravity in the air, anticipating the big change that was about to happen.
Max and Bella approached Daisy gently, one on each side. They laid their heads on her, as if they were silently pledging to be there for her until the end. Daisy stared at them, her eyes filled with gratitude and love for her loyal friends.
Daisy walked away quietly as the sun fell below the horizon, sending a warm orange glow across the grass. Her sweethearts Max and Bella were present, comforting her as she crossed the Rainbow Bridge.
Max and Bella’s eyes filled with tears as they looked at their dead mother. They were lost from their Lord, who protected them and loved them like her own. However, the love they felt for Daisy and the love she gave them will live in their hearts forever.
In the days that followed, Max and Bella found comfort in each other’s company. Their friendship, formed from their shared love for Daisy, grows stronger. They often sat together in the garden, surrounded by Daisy’s favorite flowers, as if sharing fond memories of their mother.
Max and Bella’s sad farewell to their ill mother, Daisy, is an example of the extraordinary relationships that can be built between dogs and their adopted family members.
In a world where love knows no bounds, Max and Bella show that a dog’s love and commitment to their adoptive family is as deep and unbreakable as any other dog.
Their narrative serves as a reminder of the beauty of love and the lasting connections that make life more meaningful.
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