Bella Bella

BELLA BELLA

Our friends Jon and Beth lost their dog yesterday. Bella could have been the poster child for pit bill rescue. She had the face for it.

Bella came to her family through a rescue that pulled her from breeding squalor. No one will ever know how many litters of pit puppies Bella gave the dog fighting world. As Jon says, if we ever find the people who ran that ring, there will be human blood and jail time and no regrets.

Beth and Jon didn’t know Bella had cancer when they got her. She was cute and had a personality twice the size of the room and she picked them out of the lineup of adoptees at the event by licking Beth. A lot.

Multiple tumors showed up in her stomach not quite a year into her adoptive life; the vet said they were due to Bella being “force-bred,” repeatedly and often. Her body would not have been given time to rest between litters: wean, breed, birth, wean, repeat.

A surgery could take them out, but they would reappear. What did Jon and Beth want to do?

Realizing they couldn’t save her life, they set out to give her a life to savor. Bella had a full year of royal treatment: a soft bed in Beth’s office, two soft beds at home. Walks: lots and lots of walks. Bella never met a blade of grass she didn’t want to sniff, or a squirrel she didn’t want to chase.

There may have been cheese and other things dogs normally don’t get because of health concerns; since Bella spent a year stretching out the sympathy, she got a LOT of forbidden stuff. Did I mention Bella’s natural intelligence? Jon and Beth swear she could even work the TV remote.

She could also counter surf; Jon came home unexpectedly one day when Bella had been home alone, and she was up on the kitchen counter, exploring her options. Thinking fast, Bella barked, “Thank God you’re home! I found a spider!” She was a very clever dog.

And sweet, to everyone but other dogs. Well, and squirrels. Bella could not hold her licker around any human; you were getting a sponge bath.

While Jon and Beth would have liked to give Bella more than the glorious two years they had, Bella knew how good she had it. She knew her retirement would be golden and that should take it all for what it was worth because her early years had been wrong in every sense of the word. I suspect she even knew that her life was a testament to the power of dog rescue and the horrors of dog fighting. But most importantly, she knew Jon and Beth adored her, and she adored them right back.

For Those Who Have Ears to Hear

My day job took me to DC. I’m on the 12th floor of a hotel, looking out over the city, which had a snowstorm. Overnight, it looked like the little pellets inside a snow globe, and in the lamplight as I watched the snow fly, it was beautiful.

I stood looking out my hotel room window, and thought, “There are two men out there who have done the same, only with acquisition on their minds. They don’t see a strange mix of buildings and beauty; they see something they feel they own.”

Tuesday, the meetings I attended talked about how to talk to the legislators regarding rural health policy (think the sexy topics of Medicare and Medicaid) which we will do today. I am at the National Rural Health Association’s annual Policy Institute, since you ask.

Tuesday, several men in suits told us which words to avoid, which words to focus on. What no one discussed much was, how do you talk to people who work for someone who considers us serfs? Who looks out over the city and doesn’t think, “how can I make this place better,” but “how much can I enrich myself from this place?”

Maybe we didn’t discuss it because there is no way to get into that mindset and come out whole.

There was one interesting group discussion. Someone pointed out that “rural health” can be framed as a national security issue. If we can’t make them feel compassion for the loss of places where women can go to have babies, perhaps we can shock them with the potential loss of their own safety and security? We supply the food, the raw materials that become power (as in electricity, don’t stretch that into a metaphor, k thanks?). We supply the soldiers that fight wars and “keep” peace. Rural is vital to the proper functioning of the United States.

Mmhmm. Today is the day we go talk to the elected men (and some women) in suits, who work for the men in suits looking out their windows at what they believe they own. Those elected ones, they must be in some confusion at the moment. One hopes. It depends on why decided to occupy an office in the capital in first place. Did they believe they could make the world a better place, or that they could better their worlds? That they could do both with integrity and good results?

Moral high ground is slippery, and sometimes it walks through dark valleys. Good luck, elected officials. You’re going to need it.

But so are we, the grass roots non-profits and other care providers who find ourselves suddenly framing arguments without using certain words, and shining bright lights on how lucrative we are to their agenda. We’re being drawn into their kind of fight, and it would be naïve to believe that we can refuse to do that with any good results for the people counting on us to get them care.

I am praying to hold onto some integrity, intelligence, and a sense of humor today. Humility may come in handy, too. When people speak different dialects, you need to speak theirs to get things done. It’s called code switching, changing your accent and vocabulary to make communication more clear. It doesn’t usually have a moral component.

Except this time. Here we go.