If you cast a circle, and called upon the Universe to show you the patron deity of all creatures ugly and awkward, the Queen of them all... There would be a poof of bristly hair, a strange cheese-musk aroma, a fanfare of snorgling and groaning, and then there would be Bella.
I love her so much, this dog of mine. This morning, I woke up to my pillow snoring lustily. I peeled the corner of my pillow back, and there was that face, even more rumpled than usual, pissed at being woken up, glaring outward. She's like a Picasso. She's postmodern art.
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