Bella had discovered a new power. No, not the power of relentless chewing (though every shoe in the house could attest to her mastery of that). Not the power of enthusiastic, slobbery greetings (though Claire’s jeans were often polished to a damp sheen). This was something far greater: the power of verticality.
Bella had learned to jump.
At first, it was adorable—Claire applauded when Bella launched her wiggly body onto the sofa, a triumph of momentum over grace. But soon, the consequences became clear. What was once safe on the coffee table was no longer safe at all. Mail, phones, TV remotes, sandwiches—anything that could be “put up” was suddenly within range of Bella’s chaotic, spring-loaded pounce.
Claire used to worry about Bella digging under the garden fence. But now? Now she wondered if she should invest in a lower basketball net, as Bella seemed to believe every airborne object was meant for her toothy retrieval.
The kitchen counter, once a sanctuary of pre-dinner preparation, was no longer secure. Bella’s eyes, usually soft and dopey, gleamed with a new kind of determination. Every time Claire turned her back, she could sense Bella’s little legs tensing, coiled like over-wound springs, ready to launch a fifty-pound fuzzy torpedo towards a forgotten stick of butter. It was only a matter of time before dinner preparation became a full-contact sport, whether Claire liked it or not.
Claire found herself saying “Off!” and “Down!” So often, the words had lost all meaning. They were just sounds she made, a mantra against the tide of puppy enthusiasm. Vocal training: thirty reps daily, no gym membership required.
And through it all, Bella wore that same blissfully pleased expression, her tongue lolling out as if to say: Everything is a game! The floor is boring! You should play with me, human!
One day, Bella would make it to the highest peak in the house—perhaps the kitchen counter, perhaps the dining room table, perhaps even by accidentally launching herself into Claire’s arms. When that day came, Claire would sigh, shake her head, and quietly admit the truth:
Bella had not just reached new heights. She had conquered them, one wagging tail and slobbery kiss at a time.
