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#Fear of loss
I hate being left alone. It's the worst feeling I know. When my master and mistress leave the house, I have already sensed it way before. Their voices sound different while they put on shoes and jackets and try to keep me safe. Sometimes they distract me with toys or surprise me with my favourite treat. And then - BANG - silence. The house is dead. And I feel trapped inside. I know it's totally stupid, but then I run to all the doors and see if maybe one is open and I still catch them. I'm so afraid they won't come back. I'll bark and whine for a while. Sometimes I look for something to let go of my frustration. Once I tore all the caps and scarves off the shelf and spread them out in the hallway. Another time I chewed around on my mistress' wonderfully smelling shoes. She cried very hard because those were her absolute favourites. I haven't done that since. Okay, the other night, they left me alone for the first time. I was so angry, I cut up such a plastic feather duster. But it's really getting better.
Sleeping is the most beautiful thing on earth. I spend a third of the day sleeping somewhere. It's important to find the perfect chilling place. In the beginning master and mistress always forced me to go onto my ugly, uncomfortable dog bed. But unfortunately they also allowed me to join them on the sofa. So I played stupid and just laid down there whenever I wanted. "How should she understand the difference?" I heard them say. HarHarHar! In our new home I have captured this beautiful ball chair in the hallway. It's a design masterpiece, but nobody wants to sit there - so I do. I love it. Ok, I love sleeping in bed, too. I wasn't allowed in the beginning, too. But I just used the same strategy as for the sofa.
To be honest, I don't know exactly. I was born somewhere in Sardinia. When I was three months old, me and my two sisters were brought to an animal shelter in Olbia. Maybe we weren't good at hunting or for breeding. Because there's a tooth missing in my lower jaw. Anyway, there are only blurry memories concerning my heritage. Shortly after our arrival in the animal shelter the picture below was taken. Don't I look cute? For some reason they called me Sissi. Luckily, my master & mistress weren't put off by that and changed it to Bella. This name suits so much better.