This ebook is available to download for free over the next 36 hours. It’s a must for people who love stories about dogs with character.
Month: Jun 2025
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Clicking the link will bring you to a location where you get the opportunity to feel good.
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If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you’ll recognise the heart of my latest eBook—now available on KDP (link below).
It’s a short read packed with mindset shifts, practical wisdom, and reflections on growth, self-belief, and letting go.
Think of it as a pocket guide to intentional living.
If you’re short on time, here’s the spirit of it in one line:
You are the architect of your life—build it with belief, gratitude, and an open heart. -
Bella’s inner world. Who Am I and Why Do they Keep Yelling at Me?
Starring:
BELLA – Fluffy Existentialist, Name Crisis Survivor, Bark-Based Philosopher.
CHAPTER ONE: IDENTITY FRACTURE IN THE LIVING ROOM
It started, like most of Bella’s life crises, with a biscuit.
She had just executed a flawless counter-surveillance manoeuvre (code name: “Stealth Nap Behind the Sofa”) when she heard it:
“Ah-ah, NO!”
Bella froze. Biscuit mid-swipe. One paw in the air like a thief caught by an invisible security system.
“Was that… me?” she muttered.
Then:
“Come back here!”
“Stop that!”
“What did I just say?”It was like the humans were casting spells at random, and Bella was the only one who kept getting zapped.
She padded into the hallway, head tilted at a classic 37-degree angle (the optimal confusion tilt).
“Claire,” she said solemnly, “do I… have a name?“
Claire looked up from her tea, clearly unprepared for the emotional weight of the question. “Of course you do, sweetheart! You’re Bella.”
Bella squinted. “Then why do you only say that when I’m being sweet or asleep?”
Claire blinked. “Well…”
“And what about ‘Ah-ah’? That gets used a lot. Or ‘Get down. Or ‘What did I say?’”
“Those are just… things we say,” Claire replied, now nervously petting the sofa cushion.
Bella gasped. “THINGS YOU SAY?! Claire. Those are my identities. I thought ‘Come Here’ was my middle name until last week.”
CHAPTER TWO: AN INTERVENTION WITH NOODLE
Later that day, she met Noodle under the hydrangea bush (the unofficial Dog Philosophy Lounge).
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” Bella confessed, flopping dramatically onto her side. “What if I’m not Bella? What if I’m actually NoNoNo-LeaveIt?”
Noodle, chewing on a pine cone like it was a cigar of wisdom, nodded sagely. “Classic human conditioning paradox. Happened to me once. Thought my name was ‘GETOFFTHECOUCH’ for three months.”
Bella rolled onto her back and stared at the sky. “Maybe I’m just a noise-reactive fluff organism with no fixed identity.”
“You’re overthinking again,” Noodle said. “You are who you decide to be. Name’s just a label. Power comes from within.”
Bella blinked. “Did you read that on a fridge magnet?”
“No. Claire’s mindfulness calendar.”
CHAPTER THREE: REBRANDING
Bella decided to take matters into her own paws.
From now on, she would respond only to Queen Bella of Barkshire. Nothing less.
When Claire called “Bella!” in the garden, she turned her head slightly and waited.
“Bella, COME!”
She blinked.
“…Bella, please?”
Closer. Warmer.
“Queen Bella of Barkshire, sovereign ruler of squeaky toys?”
Bella trotted over, graciously.
Claire sighed. “This is going to be a long week.”
CHAPTER FOUR: EPIPHANY IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM
That night, Bella curled up in the laundry basket, buried in the warm scent of t-shirts and socks.
She’d learned something important.
She wasn’t just “Bella.” She was:
- “Ah-ah!” (when she’s suspiciously quiet and gets caught red pawed)
- “Come back!” (when adventure calls)
- “I see you” (when she forgot they’re in the room)
- “NO!” (when science must be done on forbidden snacks)
- “Good girl” (when the humans finally understand her genius)
She was all of them. And none of them.
She was Bella, the multifaceted, mysterious, occasionally muddy monarch of mischief.And maybe, just maybe, her real name was less about what they called her.
…and more about who came running when they did.
Moral of the Story:
You are not defined by the things they yell when you’re stealing cheese.
You are defined by the way they say your name when they think you’re sleeping.
THE END.
(Or is it?) -
Bella just loves to be chased. It’s just as well that she’s adorable or she’d be put up for adoption. (A Human’s Descent into Chaos)
Narrated by Claire
(Exhausted Human. Reluctant Chaser. Bella’s Favourite Victim.)
MISSION OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE THE DOG
It started like any other Thursday.
I was in the kitchen, minding my own business, reaching for the biscuit tin—my biscuit tin, the one I hide out of necessity behind the toaster because someone has a problem—when I felt it.
The stare.
Bella sat at my feet, eyes wide, tail thumping like a metronome set to “I am innocent.”
I knew that look. That was her “I’m about to ruin your day” face.
ACT I: THE HEIST
I turned my back for one second.
One. Second.
A metallic clang. A blur of caramel-coloured fluff. The distinct sound of a cymbal crashing directly onto my last nerve.
“BELLA!”
She had the lid. My lid. The one that actually fits the tin properly. And now it was gone, clamped in her smug little mouth as she bolted for the living room like she’d just looted the Crown Jewels.
Sophie, sprawled on the couch, didn’t even look up.
“She’s got the lid again.”
“I KNOW,” I hissed, already in hot pursuit.
ACT II: THE CHASE (AKA WHY IS SHE SO FAST??)
Bella’s strategy was simple:
- Run in unpredictable circles until at least one of us is dizzy.
- Drop the lid just as someone lunges for it.
- Snatch it back with a wiggle and a look of moral superiority.
- Repeat until someone cries.
“Just DROP IT!” I begged, skidding into the coffee table.
Bella paused, head cocked. Then—SPROING!—she kicked the lid across the room like a hockey puck from hell.
Sophie finally looked up.
“Oh my god, she’s playing with you.”
“I KNOW.”
ACT III: THE BETRAYAL
I tried diplomacy.
“Bella,” I cooed, voice as sweet as a poisoned cupcake.
“Drop it and you get a treat.”
She froze. Ears perked.
“Treat?”
“Yes. So many treats.”
She moved slowly, like a dramatic soap opera villain laying down a weapon. The lid touched the floor.
I reached—
PSYCH.
She snatched it back and zoomed under the couch, tail wagging like she’d just conned a government agency.
Sophie doubled over laughing.
“She played you. SHE PLAYED YOU.”
I collapsed face-first onto the rug.
“I hate it here.”
EPILOGUE: THE AFTERMATH
The lid was recovered.
Dented. Drool-coated. Spiritually violated.Bella sprawled belly-up, smug as a toddler after a crayon wall mural.
Sophie was still laughing, scrolling through her camera roll.
“This is going on the internet.”
I stared at the ceiling.
“Why do we keep the biscuit tin at her level?”
Bella sighed, content.
Mission complete.
FINAL REPORT:
- Human Sanity: Rapidly eroding
- Biscuit Tin Lid: Listed as “Missing in Dignity”
- Bella’s Reign of Chaos: 100% operational
- Next Threat: Toilet Paper: Unspooled Edition
SIGNING OFF
😑 —Claire, Bella’s Disgraced Chaser
