Bella DeJoy

Bella the Unbothered (2007? – February 12, 2025) Queen. Icon. Dictator of Comfort. Unofficial Zoom Consultant. Bella, the undisputed ruler of the heating pad and the fiercest bed thief in recorded history, passed away peacefully after years of fearless leadership over her canine and feline subjects. She lived by the motto, Never Give Up, Never Quit—especially when it came to stealing beds, demanding second (and third) breakfasts, and judging humans with an unshakable level of disapproval. She never tolerated nonsense, particularly from her dog sister, who foolishly believed she had any say in household matters. And as for her cat brother? If Bella wanted his spot, he lost his spot. No discussion. No democracy. Just pure, unapologetic dominance. A connoisseur of cozy spaces, Bella believed every warm spot in the house belonged to her by divine right. Be it a sunbeam, a freshly folded pile of laundry, or a human’s lap, she claimed her territory with an iron paw. If you dared to move her? Expect a glare so intense it could pierce your soul. A pioneer in the world of remote work, Bella was never late to a Zoom meeting. She understood that her opinion and feedback mattered in any meeting her mother attended. Whether it was a high-stakes business discussion or a casual team check-in, Bella made her presence known—often by walking directly in front of the camera or providing timely, judgmental stares that put underperforming employees on notice. Feisty yet loveable, Bella was always hungry—emotionally and literally. No meal was ever enough, and no amount of attention could ever fully satisfy her. She was the embodiment of main character energy and remained wholly, stubbornly, gloriously herself until the very end. Seven years ago, Bella was a "senior special" at the Humane Society for Hamilton County (Indiana). You never would have known she was 13 when I brought her home, and until her last day, she was still the same Bella I fell in love with. Don’t let the age of an adoptable pet ever stop you from adopting one. Age is just a number. Thank you to HSHC for taking her in as a surrender case—I’m honored that she got to live out her twilight years with me. Who knew that when I went to drop off donations, that I'd be walking out with her! Bella is survived by her grieving human staff, her confused but somewhat relieved animal siblings, and her beloved heating pad, which will now sit cold and abandoned—much like our hearts. Rest easy, Bella. May there be endless treats, stolen beds, and warm laps in the afterlife. You were never just a cat; you were a legend.