There's five houses along the dead-end side-road where I take my morning walk. Bella's house is the first I come to. Back in the day, she would often join me and the hounds on the hike.
That ended with my first Bruno walk. Bella came trotting out, tail awag, and Bruno knocked me down and dragged me through the snow trying to get at her. I've been missing her ever since.
Today I took the morning constitutional sans Bruno, because he hates warm weather, plus Mum's home all day. Bella was lying in her driveway. I'd pretty much passed by before Bella realized Satan was not in tow, and suddenly, there she was, trotting along with me, tail going 100mph.
To me, Bella is the spitting image, if not the re-incarnation of a dog I had as a boy. Husso had the same shaggy fur in the same colours, and the same busy bushy tail that just says "Fahne hoch!"
When things changed and Husso didn't fit into family plans anymore, he was gifted to one of my father's workmates who lived about 40 miles away. He was back four days later, having traversed forty miles of country he'd never seen before.
I remember him every time Bella comes out for a walk.
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