Story and photos by Nancy Gallimore
I’m not sure if I’ve stepped into a Hallmark movie or a Disney feature. On one hand, it’s autumn in a small, quaint coastal town in Maine. On the other hand, I’m surrounded by cartoonish chipmunks, mischievous red squirrels, opinionated crows, and one very dignified fox. Regardless, the genre of this real-life movie is a love story, and I am not the leading lady.
The undeniable star of this show is a white dog with soft orange patches and a smattering of freckles like confetti adorning her coat. Her face always bears a thoughtful expression as if she is pondering the mysteries of the world (or wondering when she might be offered another tasty treat). Large golden-brown eyes are perfectly ringed in black liner, and she has mastered the soulful, intoxicating gaze that suggests a dash of hound in her perfectly blended DNA.
Saved from Solitude
Our leading lady is named Belle, and her Hallmark/Disney–inspired tale started in the early summer of 2019. As with many fairy tales, Belle had to go through hardship before the big plot twist in her story. Belle was found trapped in a home in Oklahoma, having been alone for several days after her owner passed away. She had no care beyond her own ingenuity but thankfully was able to open a bag of dog food and access water.
A young adult dog of mixed heritage, Belle found herself in a bit of a pickle, as burgeoning heroines often do. There were no family members to whisk her away to a better life. There was no flannel-shirted man to fall head over heels for the brown-eyed girl. There were no fairy godmothers at hand.
That leads us to her magic carriage ride — in the form of a transport van full of homeless dogs — nearly 1,800 miles northeast to Maine. Here’s where the plot twist comes in. A dear friend of mine, who happens to live in Maine, saw a post about Belle on Facebook. She had quietly been searching for a new dog for years. Not just any dog. The dog. The dog that would make her heart skip a beat or two. The dog that could look straight into her eyes with a meant-to-be certainty.
Through the magic of the internet, a photo of the homeless hound set off all the bells and whistles in Lisa Dingle’s heart. And then she realized Belle was, amazingly, headed her way. So Lisa jumped into action, tracked Belle’s journey, and was the first person waiting none too patiently at the door of the receiving shelter to meet her new forever friend.
Reconnecting
Fast-forward five years. Lisa and I were chatting online, as long-distance friends often do. She mentioned that the members of the Dingle clan — Lisa, her husband, John, their three adult kids, two spouses, and one darling granddaughter — were heading to Disney World the first week of October. She was concerned because her normal pet sitter might not be available for the full week.
“Buy me a plane ticket, and I’ll come stay with Belle,” I joked. Of course it was a joke. Who brings someone nearly 1,800 miles to stay with a dog?
“Are you serious?” replied Lisa. And suddenly I realized I was very serious.
And so, plot twist number two became a reality. As I type this, I’m sitting in a beautiful home by a window framing a harbor scene that is a painting waiting for an artist’s brush. Leaves just responding to autumn’s first chill are floating to the ground on a lazy breeze. The morning fog has just lifted to allow the sun to cast a gentle glow through the stately trees standing sentry on the front lawn.
And did I mention that this home was originally an inn built circa 1830? The Disney princess movie just turned very Hallmark, didn’t it?
Nearby, I can hear Belle’s soft trademark snore. She and I were up at dawn to explore her backyard, where countless woodland friends ventured while we slept. She ran quicky from bush to tree to flower bed, pausing to draw the night’s stories into her inquisitive snout.
Belle’s years here have taught her there is no point in pursuing the nimble chipmunks and tiny red squirrels that constantly dart through her domain, although she still enjoys the pretense of an exaggerated predatory stalk now and then.
After a quick breakfast, we headed out for a walk in the still sleepy community that is now Belle’s hometown. We walked where Belle wanted to go, letting that hound DNA kick in once again to guide us to the best smells and, for my benefit, the best sights. After sitting on the small boat dock enjoying the stillness of the harbor punctuated by the sharp commentary of ever-present crows, we headed inside for breakfast and Belle’s midmorning nap.
Belle always rests facing out a window. She never looks for a place to snuggle up in the interior of her lovely home. She seems to always need a view, perhaps reassurance that the outside is still there. I think back to the trauma of Belle having been imprisoned in her former home, her owner unable to let her out, perhaps no place in the house to afford Belle a glimpse of sunshine. I wonder if that memory fuels her need for windows.
Fortunately for Belle, her happily-
ever-after home has gracious windows at every turn. Large panes of glass with chairs, beds, and one special Belle-designated ottoman afford constant access to the most beautiful views. The great outdoors is very much a part of the inside of Belle’s home.
Although Belle’s last moments in Oklahoma feel as though they were filmed in black and white, her life here in Maine is full of color and saltwater-infused breezes. She is surrounded by warmth, love, and gentle devotion. She has two amazing humans who will keep her safe and take her for endless walks and the car rides she so clearly loves.
Hoping for a Solution for Others
I feel very blessed to have come full circle with Belle’s story. Her plight in Oklahoma, where pet overpopulation is such a constant crisis, is an all too common story, and Belle is one of the very lucky ones. I will always remember following her trail toward a better life. I knew the hearts that were waiting to welcome her on the other side of that long trip, and I was excited for Belle to leap into their world.
As I sit here with her now, I wish I could write this same fairy tale over and over for all the dogs still waiting, still hoping for a better life. Even better, I wish I could wave a magic wand (we’re back to Disney now) to solve the problem of pet overpopulation in Oklahoma. I love my home state, but I long for a solution that will end the need to send magic carriages full of sweet dogs far away to find their fairy-tale lives.
In the meantime, I will celebrate with one very special girl in her personal magic kingdom, her never-ending holiday special. “Hey, Belle!” I call out. “Do you want to go for a walk?” And with a quick wag of her tail, her answer is a grateful yes.
