Dog Park, High Noon

Paradise isn't easy to come by and it's even harder to keep. But a good dog knows that she has to stand up to protect what's hers. This is the story of one such dog, the one they call Bella.

Now, paradise was Three Forks Dog Park in Snoqualmie, and even on overcast days, of which there were many, the park was a bright place to be. But the sun was shining on that October Saturday when Greg and Bella rode their Ford Bronco into Three Forks. Heads turned, as they always did, at Bella's arrival.

Greg strolled, but Bella pranced. Greg was a well-groomed man, and he wore a light brown cardigan with a hint of orange to complement the flashes of autumn gold among the evergreen. Bella was a Yorkie with a little something else, and her silky coat was more gold than black; it bounced and beamed back sunshine as she pranced to her heart's delight while Mount Si kept watch over the park's horizon.

It was yet another perfect day, and when Greg ceased his stroll, Bella turned her head to look in the same direction as he did. Greg was watching a large man wearing lumberjack red. The large man searched his pockets helplessly as a nearby pit bull hunched in the middle of the grassy field.

"Here. It's lemon-scented, biodegradable." Greg stepped in with a doggie bag to save the day.

"Wow, that's nice." The large man, not a local or Greg would've known him, sniffed the bag. "You know, I almost feel bad using it."

"Oh don't. Here, take another just in case. I got plenty."

And that was true. Greg had boxes and boxes of those scented doggie bags back home. He had to get rid of them somehow because Bella no longer needed them.

Several years back, Greg had finally gotten the message when Bella had given him yet another hurt pleading look while being forced to do her business out in public. That very day, Greg had gone to the store and returned home to present Bella with a litter box. And Greg didn't train Bella to use that litter box. Greg didn't train Bella to do anything. He simply presented, and Bella revealed.

While Greg and the lumberjack man chatted, the pit bull came over to inspect Bella. He towered over her, so Bella stretched her head skyward to exchange dignified sniffs. When the newcomer grew overenthusiastic, Bella bared her teeth. The pit bull hung his head until Bella wagged her tail to show that all was forgiven.

As Greg and Bella continued on their way across the grass, they were joined by Cindy and Ed. Cindy looked perpetually sunburned and always wore a khaki winter vest no matter the time of year. Ed was an excitable, overweight pug plagued by respiratory issues, a condition that most referred to as "cute."

"Greggy bear." Cindy brandished the flask that she always carried in her vest.

"Not for me, thanks. How's this guy?" Greg crouched down to greet Ed, but Ed only had eyes for Bella.

"Still keeping me awake at night." Cindy sipped her rotgut then held the flask out to Greg. "Come on, it's only three days until Halloween."

"And what's Eddie going to be for Halloween?" Greg asked.

"Okay, I get it, you don't drink, Mr. Rogers."

"Well, Mr. Rogers was a very—"

"Hey, you see that new dog, I mean really look at it? Middle Eastern something. Majestic as shit. Gives little Bella here a run for her money."

Like Bella, Greg was quick to forgive, but he also knew that Cindy was a potty-mouthed drunk whose words couldn't be taken at face value: No dog could compare to Bella.

But then he saw it.

The new dog.

It stood tall, a flowing white curtain set against the black backdrop of Mount Si. The dog turned, all the better to show off its sleek profile, then shook out its luxurious hair, and Greg felt as if he were watching a shampoo commercial.

Bella, with Ed wheezing to keep up, had wandered ahead of Cindy and Greg. But now Bella slowed her prance to inspect this intriguing interloper. Snout held high, the new dog sat perfectly still, while the wind rippled through its hair.

"Look, Bella's in love," Cindy said.

But Greg didn't think so. Bella did not sniff this new dog. No, Bella was sitting perfectly still and staring at the newcomer. Cockeyed Ed tried to do the same. The new dog stared straight ahead with eyes darker than the deepest sea.

"Yes, that is Wolfgang," said a woman, who had slipped unnoticed to stand at Greg and Cindy's side. Like her dog, the woman was willowy. She wore a tight black turtleneck paired with a black fashion hat, and her long hair had obviously been dyed white.

"Oh hello! That's my Bella, the little Yorkie there, and her friend Ed," said Greg.

The woman inclined her head then stared straight ahead like her dog.

"Don't you think it's funny how people introduce their dogs first? Sometimes, I don't even recognize them without their dogs. I'm Greg by the way."

"Sadii with two i's." Sadii held out a limp hand for Greg to kiss. When Greg went in for a shake instead, Sadii withdrew her hand and crossed her arms.

"Hi, Cindy with three i's." Cindy held out a limp hand as Sadii had done, while Greg nearly died of embarrassment.

Sadii stiffened, then said a word that Greg didn't quite catch. Maybe "Heinz," like the ketchup?

But with that word, Wolfgang pounded his paw against the earth.

Bella flinched but remained sitting. That same could not be said for poor Ed, who showed his yellow belly, then rolled to his feet and scampered off across the field.

"Ed… Ed! Dammit Ed." Cindy jogged after her little pug.

Greg started after them, but Sadii blocked his way.

"Tell me, Greg, does Bella compete?"

"No, she likes to share with other dogs." Greg took a few steps to the side because he couldn't see over Sadii's shoulder to keep an eye on Bella.

"No, by compete, I mean does she have precision and discipline?" Sadii pivoted to face Wolfgang. "Watch… eins zwei drei!"

Wolfgang pounded his paw against the ground three times, but Bella didn't flinch this time.

"Now, I reward him." Sadii reached into her slim black purse and pulled out a strand of red raw meat.

"Oh my," Greg said because he didn't know what else to say.

"Yes, Kobe beef, flown in to Seattle daily." Sadii tossed the raw meat and Wolfgang snatched it out of the air with a clack of teeth. "So, does Bella want a taste?"

"Uh… that might cause stomach issues." Greg sidled closer to Bella because Wolfgang had begun to pace back and forth in front of his dog.

"No, Greg." The woman matched Greg's sidestep then kept walking, circling the man. "I mean The Show."

"Like a dog show?" Greg put a hand in his pocket to clutch his roll of doggie bags for comfort.

"Surely she must want a taste, but does she have what it takes? Now, Greg… is Bella pure Yorkie?"

"And something else. I don't know for sure."

"Ah… The Show isn't for every dog." Sadii smiled and loomed over him.

That's when Bella yelped, and Greg knew what had happened even though he couldn't see it. That damn Wolfgang had slammed his paw down on Bella.

He pushed past Sadii and plucked Bella from the grass. Bella bared her teeth and squirmed in Greg's arms as he glared at Wolfgang.

The hound gave Greg a side-eyed glance, like a sly feathered snake.

"Bad dog," Greg said to the hound as Bella continued to struggle in his arms.

"Please control your dog." Sadii threw another bit of Kobe beef to Wolfgang.

"What? He attacked Bella."

"Nonsense, he is a purebred Afghan hound."

"Excuse me?"

"It means he does not touch others that are not of his kind."

"Okay! Time to go, Bella." Greg put Bella under one arm and stormed off.

Halfway across the field, he realized he had a lemon-scented biodegradable bag in his hand, and he had no idea why.

Still holding Bella, Greg watched at a safe distance as Wolfgang surreptitiously smacked his paw down on the head of another dog, a hurt and confused border collie that bolted across the field while its bewildered owner followed.

Greg fumed as he checked Bella's silky head for traces of blood. Finally, he set Bella down and headed for the park's exit.

Bella did not follow.

She looked up at Greg, and this is what her eyes said:

We can't leave now, Greg, because if we do, then Three Forks will never be the same. Don't you see? If we lack the grit to stand up for what is good and true in this place we love, then we don't deserve it.

Greg didn't quite catch all of that, but he trusted in Bella enough to follow her as she pranced back across the field. She picked up her pace.

Oh God, she was heading straight for Wolfgang.

"No, Bella. No!"

Bella didn't heed Greg's call.

The Afghan hound waited, one paw held at the ready.

The paw came down, but Bella was no longer there. She had rushed right under Wolfgang's legs, upsetting the hound's perfect hair. Now it was Wolfgang's turn to yelp.

Bella slowed to look back at Wolfgang.

Eins zwei drei! The Afghan hound beat his paw against the ground in a rage.

Then, the chase was on.

With long loping strides, the hound pursued the prancing Yorkie.

Greg shouted after Bella and tried to reach the two. Sadii also followed, although she said nothing.

A herd of dogs and people was soon running back and forth across the grass, trying to keep pace with Wolfgang and Bella.

Bella put on a final burst of speed, then stopped to face Wolfgang.

Both dogs panted, catching their breath, as a lone tennis ball rolled across their path.

They moved at the same time: Bella prancing her heart out and Wolfgang leaping to bring both front legs down on Bella, like a fox pouncing on a mouse.

Greg gave a heartrending cry, then silence fell across Three Forks.

Then, the Afghan Hound arched its back, and Bella crawled out from what, a moment ago, had seemed like a curtain of certain death.

Wolfgang arched his back higher and higher.

Was this some new line of attack?

No… perhaps it was Bella's acrobatics or too much raw Kobe beef flown in daily to Seattle or a combination of the two, but right there in the eyes of all, Wolfgang let out a shameful steaming reminder that all dogs, purebred or not, are mortal.

"Ah, what? Wolfgang would never…" Sadii quickly reached into her purse, but her hand came up empty.

She tried to retreat, but Greg already had her in his sights.

He peeled off three shots at close range.

Sadii shrieked and staggered back, clutching three lemon-scented biodegradable bags to her chest.

Then Bella did something she almost never did. She barked.

When all eyes were on her, Bella barked again.

That was when all the dogs, from the smallest chihuahua to the Greatest Dane, joined her call.

With Bella in lead, they sent that son of a bitch Wolfgang packing, all the way back to Seattle with his tail between his legs.

And as for Bella? Well, she prances on, and neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night shall stop her prancing.

Sometimes, all it takes is one good dog, and that is why Three Forks still stands today.