Queen Of The Community

I loved my walks. And they were not casual strolls — they were official appearances.

The moment I stepped out of the house, I expected the streets to be clear. No humans lingering. No dogs crossing paths. This was my time, and everyone needed to respect it. I made an announcement for space.

I barked — not because I was angry, but because communication is important. People needed to know I was coming through.

Around the neighborhood, my humans weren’t known as Ria and Aaryan’s parents. They were known as Bella’s parents.

Honestly, that felt correct.

Everyone recognized me. The barker. The tiny dog with the big attitude. The one who owned the street and made sure no one forgot it.

When I wasn’t around — when I stayed at Celia’s for a bit — the neighbors noticed.

They didn’t say, “Where are you?”
They said, “Where is Bella?”

And then they added, “We haven’t seen her… or heard her.”

Exactly.

Because when I was gone, the neighborhood was too quiet.

I wasn’t just taking walks.

I was maintaining order.