I didn’t know it at the time, but November 29, 2011 would end up being one of the best days of my life. It was the day you decided you couldn’t keep your dog anymore and gave her to a rescue.

On that day, while you were giving up your rights to a wonderful pup, I was being fitted for clothes to show my horse in. My mom was supposed to be there, but ended up working late, handling what you did. She showed up after sunset with a dog that I was told not to touch, as she was aggressive in a kennel. Being that I was 13, I put my hand against her kennel anyways, not putting my fingers in the kennel but letting her sniff and lick my hand. She was surprisingly unaggressive towards me in that moment and in almost every moment of our lives following.

We tried rehoming her, as my parents, my brother, and I already owned four dogs; two labs, a pit-mix, and a miniature poodle. However, the only other woman she ever allowed to get close to her had a young daughter who she couldn't trust her around, so she ended up back in my home. I agreed to rehome my chocolate lab in favor of not letting someone euthanize the sweetest Australian Shepard I had ever met. From that moment on, I made a promise to myself and to her that I would do everything I could to give her the best life possible.

Unfortunately, all thanks to what you did to her for the first two years of her life, after five years, five months, and twelve days of loving her, I had to behaviorally euthanize my sweet Bella. Contrary to what we believed, her aggression got worse as she got older. Now almost 7 years old, she was beginning to be aggressive towards me, the only person she trusted on the day that you left her. It was the hardest decision I've ever had to make and one that I would never wish on my worst enemy.

I never want to learn your name, who you are, what you do, or why you decided you didn't want to keep the best dog I've ever owned. Some may say it makes it easier to hate you. Others may say that it's a good thing I don't know you as I may respond with violence, but I never would. I don't wish you harm and I don't want you to feel my pain. The pain I feel every single day since May 10, 2017 is one I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

There's a part of me that hopes this reaches you, that one day you can understand that what you did to that poor pup affected more people than just her, that it affected my life from the moment we met, and will continue to until the moment I see her at the Rainbow Bridge.

Bella was my entire life, my whole heart, and my heart dog. I'm forever grateful for the chance to love her, and the fact that you gave her up, but I don't thank you for what you did to her.

Sincerely,

The girl who loved the dog you could not