Belle Ballou!

Belle Ballou

6/2001 to 6/4/2019

Another heart saddening post. Yesterday, we lost one of our pack, my parent's dog, Belle. Belle lived eighteen years, almost to the day. So it's nostalgic and satisfied melancholy feeling to reflect on her long and beautiful life. It was amazing to think how well she did for so long. Even last fall, she swam non-stop at Lake Powell. Even last week, she roamed around the dog park. Even yesterday, she ate a cheeseburger.

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Before writing this, I read my tribute post about Belle's brother, Beau. So much of their life was together. It was good to remember and helped me figure out what memories to add when thinking about sweet lil Belle.

"The first time we met Belle and Beau was in an Albuquerque animal shelter. We were looking for ONE older (i.e. potty trained) dog after my boyhood dog had passed. There were these two fluffs in a cage together: brother and sister, the sign said. Abandoned in the mesa desert.  Within minutes of Belle curling up on Mom's lap and Beau being so cute playing in the grass, we knew they were part of our [pack].

That first night at home, my mom loves to tell this story, the two puppies were in a cardboard box. Beau started whimpering. Belle gave him a short growl. It was like she was reminding him about the pound and the desert. Essentially, the puppy equivilent of: "Don't f&*# this up." And from that moment until morning he was silent. 

One of my most vivid memories ever was watching the second tower fall on 9/11 and holding both little furball puppies...[It was a perplexing idea that the] universe harbored such violent evil and soul-lifting sweetness at the same moment.

Belle and Beau were wildly different and wildly similar at the same time (like most siblings, I guess). In one moment, they'd be hauling full-sped down one of their favorite mountain hiking trails, Belle's jaws playfully clenching Beau's entire tail, and then the next, he was loving licking her ears. They went everywhere and did everything together.

My parents are the first to admit that their puppies filled the empty nest when Shaun and I moved away. I mean, how many dogs not only have the best spot on the couch as their own -- but also have designated chenille pillows?

Another example is that they've taken those dogs everywhere: a month in the San Juan Islands, countless trips to California, jeeping in southern Colorado, and not to mention all the galavanting around New Mexico (Jealous? I sure am). Beau was game for it all -- though Lake Powell was his favorite -- and good thing too, he probably spent 6-8 weeks a year surrounded by those majestic red sandstone walls. Now, he might've liked going there because of the McDonalds cheeseburgers he got on the road trip, but I have to believe it was the swimming, hiking, kayaking, and all that fun stuff which made it so special to him."

Belle also loved adventures (and cheeseburgers). She made one of her biggest adventures moving with my parents to California where there were plenty of deer to bark at, new water to explore (the lake, delta, beach), and a new house to rule. 

And in moving to the Bay Area, she became part of my family's everyday pack. After their siblings both died, Belle became a sister to Bailey. Their interactions were so comfortable, like those good friends that can just sit in silence for hours. And I love how much our kids loved her...and I love even more that the kids have lasting memories of being at the Lake Castle with her, taking her to the Morgan Hill dog park, and helping get her fancy dinner ready...including the "Canni-paws" CBD oil Nana adds (someday they'll get that "munchies" joke).

And then there's her newest pack-mate, Dante. They were only together for a bit over a year, but she did a great job mentoring him on how to be an Ballou dog. The good (snuggles, coming when called, etc.) and the less so (stake out under the table during dinner, bark sometimes just to make sure you're heard, etc.).  They made a true odd couple: a small 20-pound, 18-year old black border collie mix with a huge, white, 60-pound, year old golden doodle. It worked. They loved and adored each other.

Belle was the sweetest dog from the very first days of her long life. I'll never forget how sh'ed take her stuffed animals and post them, like guards, around the perimeter of the property in New Mexico. How, in her mischievous puppy years, she'd leap across that shock-collar line without a yelp, tempt poor Beau across it and then dash back with another zap. Beau would be too scared of that 2nd shock and therefore, would be stuck in the "bad-dog zone." Of course, then Belle would run straight to a human and establish her alibi. 

Other times we'd only find evidence of her misadventures...like the several Barney-the-Dinosaur stuffed animals (yes, the purple one) that appeared in our house. We could only figure that she was stealing a string of replacements from a neighborhood kid, though we never could figure out who or where. It got to the point that my parents started calling her their lil'kleptomaniac.

Belle let others pretend they were alpha, including myself, but deep down it was always clear who was pulling the puppet strings (or leash, in her case). She could look at you with those little black eyes tucked into that little, furry, black/white face and compelled you to do her sweet bidding.

Belle, we're going to miss you so much. You've been part of my pack for literally half of my life, and I want you to know that you will always be. Every day, I think about the past great dogs that have shaped me: Mandy, Beau, and Cody. And now, I'm adding your name to that part of my heart. You're just with a different part of our pack...a part that finally got a good little alpha to keep them in line in a place with all the cheeseburgers, snuggles, and Barneys a girl desires.