Module 4: "Save Bella!" by Jayson Fleischer

Daddy was whistling to himself while he climbed the pull-down ladder into the attic, balancing boxes of Saints memorabilia as he maneuvered them to safety.

Daddy and Cherie were both impulsive and stubborn, while Mama and I tended to be cautious and reasonable.

We were still at home in the city’s Lower Ninth Ward, despite the governor’s order to evacuate.

Cherie sounded exasperated as she paged through a worn copy of People magazine.

“Don’t you worry,” she smiled, patting my hand as I sat down at the kitchen table, “the levees will keep us safe.”

Many were going to the Superdome, the Convention Center, or other makeshift shelters—places where pets were prohibited.

Many were going to the Superdome, the Convention Center, or other makeshift shelters—places where pets were prohibited.

Only Granny seemed unconcerned; she’d gone to bed as if our home wasn’t directly in the path of a rampaging miles-wide monster.

Water was gushing in around the front door and trickling down from the window sills, too.

“Where’s Bella?” she shouted over the gale.

The deluge slammed me against a wall, but Cherie was still clinging to the door.

Somehow, she managed to pull herself through the torrent and escape into the river that was once our back yard.

The roiling water knocked Cherie around like a buoy as she swam toward the dog.

Daddy reached up through the gap and took each of our hands, as if to convince himself we weren’t some elaborate mirage.

She was weak and malnourished, but the vet reassured us that she would make a full recovery.