Bella
A journey
It would be stretching it to call Bella a farm dog, but she is most certainly a dog that lives on the farm and, as a consequence, enjoys all the attendant benefits that go with that particular unique and privileged position. Bella is a black Labrador and, like her predecessor Roxy, also a black Lab, both have been rescues. Let me tell you about Bella today and see if I can explain it well enough to do justice to her personal journey here at Leys Farm.
Bella came to us (aged five, in September 2022) from Labrador Lifeline - an amazing charity. Having been rescued only a week or so before, we were offered the opportunity to go and meet her, where both our suitability and our compatibility could be assessed. Bella was over a two-hour drive away in Lincolnshire, staying with Shirley and Ron, who were providing foster care. We met these two wonderfully capable and humane people, along with Nicky - equally so - from the charity.
We sat in the garden and watched Bella as she moved around in the melee of other dogs, trying to avoid attention of any kind, both from the other dogs and, of course, the humans. She was relatively small, very slim, with a fine and insanely beautiful head. I was instantly smitten, and even Leigh - who is normally more cautious — seemed to feel the same. Having passed the test, we made a donation and arranged a pick-up date.
We were both excited and apprehensive at the same time. We knew from our first rescue, Roxy, that there are always significant challenges, but we were safe in the knowledge that we had boundless love, infinite patience, and a well-fenced farm with a lake for swimming, should the mood take her.
We were only told a few basics of Bella’s history, and this had been the same with Roxy. I think it is probably better that way. Bella came to a new life with us, and dwelling on the past would not help anyone.
I had built some extra fencing so that we could provide a smaller, contained area just outside our much-used back door and across from my office. Within a few minutes Bella had dug her way under the fence and, in fearful panic, run away across the farm. We found her very quickly, but it was clear there would be no miraculous transformation. Bella was suffering from extreme trauma and was not, at this stage, possessed of good mental health. She would only go to the loo in extremis, would not eat if either of us were nearby, and spent much of her time shivering and cowering in her bed.
In hindsight, we believe it was a man who had been cruel to her. It showed in how she initially looked at me and in her absolute refusal to go through a door in front of me - a sure sign that she had been kicked from behind. We knew that it would take time, but that was okay. We had time.
It was also abundantly clear, early on, that Bella decided to throw in her lot with Leigh, and it was wondrous to see this relationship develop. Leigh built calmly and slowly on the trust extended and was able to forge the most positive of relationships, even to the point of training Bella to obey some basic commands. To witness this small, vulnerable dog’s delight when she saw Leigh emerge from the house with a lead was a wonder to behold. The sight of Bella charging round, scattering gravel in transports of joy, seemed a reasonable indication we were on the right track.
I love Bella but my own bond formed more slowly, but I treasure it, just the same. It will never be as strong as the bond with Leigh, but Bella now trusts me, although I suspect I must always pay a small price for her previous experience. I have told her on many occasions, direct to her face, that those days are over and that she will only ever experience love, kindness and patience from now on.
Bella’s life now?
Anyone who has ever had a Labrador knows that food is the main driver of behaviour, and Bella is no exception. Most days, after a healthy breakfast and out on a walk, if she feels she can get away with it she will happily scavenge fresh sheep poo, decomposing wildlife, and - in an effort to keep up with her five-a-day - any seasonal hedgerow fruit she can find, such as crab apples, sloes, damsons and blackberries. Sometimes a lead is the only answer. Strangely, she has not turned out to be a swimmer, preferring merely to stand in the shallow part of the lake during hot weather. She loves to roll in fox poo and then seems genuinely puzzled as to why she must have a bath when she gets home.
Bella is still timid and nervous. She is not a tail-wagger and rarely barks, preferring to retreat instantly at the sign of an unannounced visitor. She does not like to be touched by strangers. When she is in the dog bed in my office (opposite the house), she will always track Leigh to see which room she is in, with her nose pointing at the particular room. And when we occasionally go away, the only place we can leave her is with Shirley and Ron - which involves a five-hour round trip — but hey ho, we would not have it any other way.
We now know that Bella was more damaged than we first thought, and the road has been longer and more challenging than we expected. The damage is partially, though not wholly, repaired. However, I do know that she is beloved and cared for on whatever terms work for her, and to undertake an exercise in endurance and patience such as this is rewarding beyond measure.
Perhaps Bella’s story is not really about dogs at all. Perhaps it is about what can happen when damaged things are given space, time and kindness. Leys Farm is full of stories like that - of land, of hedges, of people, and occasionally of small, anxious Labradors learning, slowly, that the world can be a safe place.
If you enjoy these glimpses into life here, I’ll keep sharing them.