Dear Liz: After a year and a half of joy, Dante (Donald) passed away on Nov. 11, 2005. Turns out he was a senior, actually around 8 or 9. He suffered from chronic pneumonia and bronchitis, and developed lung cancer as a result. It was all so sudden, and VERY heartbreaking. The vet thinks he passed as a result of a brain embolism from the cancer.

Thank you for being such a wonderful person -- Sincerely, Elaina Alvarez

I find myself sitting at my desk trying to write yet another memorial for one of my beloved fosters. What can I say about my Ol Lady, aka Elda, which means "warrior" in Italian, who was at least 12 years old when I got her back in June 2003. She was one in a million; the best foster dog I ever had; she was the most loyal, devoted, loving, dignified lady I've ever had the honor of having in my home. When I think back to the day I pulled her from the shelter, I never thought I would love her as much as I did. Her "owners" had tied her to the apartment balcony and moved out, leaving her there, all alone, sitting or lying in her own waste. No one really knows how long she was there before she was found. Fortunately, the maintenance man saw her and called Animal Control, who seized her and took her to the shelter. They wanted to prosecute the people who did this horrible thing to her, but in the meantime, the wheels of justice moved very slowly and she was at the shelter for over two months. Her owners couldn't be found so FINALLY, the court released her to the shelter to either adopt her out or put her to sleep. Angie, one of the Animal Control Officers called me and told me Ol Lady's story. I told her I had enough trouble placing my young Dals, let alone a senior Dal. She talked me into visiting her at the shelter so I went that day. Angie led me to where Ol Lady was... way in the back of the shelter, in a run all by herself. I was shocked at her physical condition. She was literally skin and bones; she had a horrible flea allergy which left her entire back end raw; she could barely walk being in a small run for so long; and her eyes, those big beautiful haunting brown eyes.. I will never forget them.. she was looking at me with hope but on the other hand, she looked as though she had lost her will to live. We put a leash on her and coaxed her out of her run.. the only home she'd had in over two months. She tried so hard to get up and walk. I looked up at Angie and said "I can't take her Angie, I'll never place her". At the same time my heart broke for her. Angie's eyes pleaded with me to give her a chance. They hated the thought of putting her to sleep because she was such a sweet girl and they felt she deserved a little happiness in her life after all she had been through. After spending about 30 minutes with Ol Lady, I threw caution to the wind and decided to take her.. telling Angie "you owe me BIG time". I carried her to the truck and put her in the back on a blanket. It was a beautiful day so I opened the back window and she sat up, and stuck her whole head out as if smelling the fresh air for the first time, and loving every minute of it.

At the shelter she had pretty much stopped eating everything except for meatballs one of the girls who worked up front brought to her every day. When I got her home she turned her nose up at everything I offered to her, which included boiled chicken, chop meat and steak. I became so frustrated. I had to help her up and down the stairs because her legs were so weak. I couldn't get her to eat, which really worried me. Until one day I had to give her a pill and a friend of mine, Sheila, told me she uses peanut butter when she has to give her Matilda pills. I didn't want to put the pill down her throat so I tried the peanut butter.. I could not believe how she loved it!!!! She scoffed it down and wanted more. I also noticed that she loved dog biscuits so for one month, that's what my Ol Lady ate. I called my friend Cindy and told her I couldn't get her to eat anything except peanut butter and dog biscuits and Cindy said "let her eat as much of them as she wants as long as she's eating". Sheila and her friend Ginger kept me well stocked in big jars of Jiff peanut butter. Finally, she started showing interest in eating what the rest of the gang ate.. and from there on in she grew stronger and healthier and her big brown eyes were dancing again.

She was such a good ol girl. No maintenance at all except to feed her, let her out and love her. Never had an accident in the house. She loved laying claim to the doggie bed closest to my bed where she could sit there and look up at me. Her eyes were so big and she was such a sweetheart. I'll never forget the day I took in a foster dog who, after living with us for three days, stood at the sink, snarled, growled and lunged at me. I grabbed a broom to try to stop him and Ol Lady came out of nowhere and attacked him to keep him away from me!!! Our mutual debt was paid. Fortunately, neither of us were hurt and poor Nic wound up back at the shelter.

Ol Lady lived with me from June 2003 until February 2nd, 2004, when she went to Rainbow Bridge. She was diagnosed with mammary cancer at the beginning of January. My heart broke a little more every day looking into her beautiful eyes and knowing I would loose her soon. Dr. Roth said it was an aggressive cancer and had already spread to her lungs.. you could hear the wheeze when she breathed. I hate her previous owners for not spaying her. I knew Saturday when she refused her dog biscuit and Sunday when I offered her a big spoonful of her beloved peanut butter and she turned away, that I was loosing her. She went down hill so fast and there was nothing I could do except make her trip to Rainbow Bridge as painless for her as possible. I rushed her to my vet Monday morning and was there before they opened. David said her body was being attacked from all directions and was slowly closing down. I decided to let her go peacefully and painlessly. My Ol Lady died with me holding her and telling her how much her mama loved her. Elda died with the same dignity and grace with which she lived her life and that is no less than she deserved.

Ol Lady was one of the coolest senior dogs I've ever known. She was feisty and loving and so loyal and devoted. If I went up to the loft 10 times, she would follow me every time, no matter how tired she was. She would sit in front of me where ever I happened to land and look at me with such intensity and then offer me her paw. For all she had been through in her earlier life, she never lost faith in humans.

My Ol Lady taught me some valuable lessons about taking in a senior dog. It shouldn't matter how old they are or what condition they're in.. it's their heart and spirit that matters and it's up to us to heal their broken heart and keep their spirit alive when they feel they have no hope and loose their will to live. Her willingness to try every day of her life while I had her was the payoff. She was wonderful; she loved life and she enjoyed it. I miss her terribly but know she's in a better place now and no longer suffering from that dreaded cancer. I was honored to have her in my life and will never forget her. Godspeed my beloved Ol Lady.. you were loved more than you'll ever know. Mama Liz.

I saw you at the shelter and no one else wanted you. You were wild and all you did was jump and bark. It took the woman almost five minutes to get your leash on so I could take you outside to get to know you. I watched you jump every time she tried to leash you and thought to myself "this isn't going to work". Once you were out of your run, you dragged me outside. You were better behaved out there but I still wasn't sure if I should take you. After a while I put you back in your run and walked away.. all the while questioning myself "should I, or shouldn't I". I came back to visit you three more times that night and finally decided to give you a try. One of the other volunteers came out of the office with a huge choke collar and said "I think you're going to need this". That same night, I pulled Nadia, the sad little Pit Bull puppy who was nothing more than skin and bones with huge soulful brown eyes. She became your best friend. If dogs could love, I knew that you two loved each other. I got you home and let you run your heart out until you were calm enough to come inside. You were such a good boy.. somewhat wild but not as bad as I thought you'd be. You got along with everybody and vice versa. You became "one of my favorite fosters" and I grew to love you so much. I named you Ario because I thought the name fit you so well.. sort of unique. As time went on, I learned you had a good boy/bad boy personality. The good boy was so wonderful; sweet, loving and gentle, but your bad boy side was just that, bad!! You were a counter surfer and thief. Anything you could reach or grab you took. I found all kinds of things outside, even spoons!! After several months, you started bothering some of the other dogs when you were outside. You would herd them up on to the deck and stand there barking and daring them to come near you. I don't know why you started acting like that, but I tried my best to help you get over it. I will never understand why the same dogs you loved and played with in the house, you started attacking outside.

You were so loved, my Ario. Every Saturday your "Auntie Sheila" would bring your beloved Nadia over so you two could have a play day.. a day you both enjoyed to the point where Nadia didn't want to go home at night. The best part was watching you watch Auntie Sheila and Nadia walk up the driveway to the house. You would stand at the door and jump so high that your head would be above 6 feet, and you would cry and whine until they got in the door. Then you would jump up on Auntie Sheila and love her for a split second, then run to your Nadia and the two of you would start to play and run around. I know how much you loved those days. You would make everyone laugh when you would dive into your kiddie swimming pool, lie down, scoop the water up in your mouth and then roll over. The day you stuck your head through my bedroom window screen because I left you in the house; You wanted to see what was going on and what you were missing because you weren't outside. The day we went to the rally with Nadia and you entertained everybody with your jumping antics.. you were such a good boy that day and everybody fell in love with you. The night I was next door visiting Donna. You heard my voice and the next thing I knew, you were jumping so high that I could see your head popping up over the six foot fence.

Sadly, it got to the point recently where you were hurting some of the other dogs and I couldn't stop you no matter how hard I tried. I finally had to make one of the hardest, most painful decisions of my life.. and that was to send you to Rainbow Bridge. It killed me, my sweet boy, knowing I had to end your life because you were hurting so many others. They grew afraid of you and wouldn't even go outside if you were there. I was so mad and frustrated with you because of your bad boy side and because I couldn't stop you.

I made the appointment with the vet to have you put to sleep. I dreaded/hated that ride and yet you had your head out the window the entire time, loving every minute of it, except when you came over to give me kisses. Your face and ears were so cold, but that didn't stop you.. you loved your rides in the truck. I put Nadia's collar on you, that Auntie Sheila donated to us, before we left the house, so you could feel Nadia close to you. Once at the vets office, we spent time in the little room together until the vet came in. I made sure you were tranquilized because I didn't want you to be scared.. you didn't deserve that. You lay peacefully on the floor next to me with your head in my hand and I told you how much I loved you and what a good boy you were.. and in seconds you were gone:( My heart was torn into a million pieces because as much as I loved you, my Ario, I had to end your life for the peace and safety of your foster brothers and sisters.

I miss you curling up on my bed in the tiniest little spot just so you could be close to me. You were so loyal and would follow me everywhere. I'll miss you running between my legs while I was walking down the hall; you scooting under my legs as I sat and typed on my keyboard. I'll even miss you stealing everything off the counters you could, even though it made me crazy.. especially when you took things I swore I put in one place and when I went to get them, they were gone, never thinking in a million years you took them. There is such a big empty place in my heart without you, my sweet boy, but someday we will meet at Rainbow Bridge and walk across together.. In the meantime, Godspeed my Ario. Run wild and free because that is your spirit. Love you always and will never forget you.

Your Mama Liz

To all,
Please forgive the email, but there are so many friends and family, most who knew Papa and/or Baby personally, or who knew them through our years of conversation, I felt this would be the best way to let everyone know, with heavy heart and much sadness, Papa's little angel, Baby, crossed over the Rainbow Bridge on July 17th, 2002. She went peacefully, with grace and dignity, and no pain.
I think she knew she was ready to go. She had pretty much stopped eating Tuesday; only taking nibbles of some meatloaf I cut up for her. She had been having trouble breathing and wasn't really her old chipper self. Wednesday night I took her to the vet and, to my surprise, she checked out ok, but Dr. Roth told me if Baby wasn't doing any better, to bring her in the next morning and they would run some more tests. After calling the vet office from work yesterday morning to let them know Baby wasn't any better, I called my friend Tony (you're my hero Tony!!) and asked him if he would drop Baby off at the vet for me. Dr. Human called me around 1130 and said Baby's color wasn't good, she was having trouble breathing and wasn't getting enough oxygen. He was going to take x-rays and do a blood panel. I didn't hear from him the rest of the day so I stopped on my way home and the girls at the front desk said they thought she was doing "ok" since they usually know what's happening in the back. When Dr. Human came in to the room to talk with me, he told me Baby had taken a turn for the worse, within the last hour, and was seizing slightly, showing signs of disorientation, and was having trouble breathing. He took me to see her.. she recognized me when I stood in front of her and she wagged her tail. Her little body was trembling, Cindy was holding an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth and her eyes looked so lifeless... I knew what she was trying to tell me.. she was ready to see Papa. I asked Dr. Human to put her to sleep, while I held her in my arms, told her I loved her and, to "go to Papa".
I owe Baby so much. When Mama died, she kept Papa with us for almost 10 years; more years than I thought he'd ever stick around for. Baby was Papa's lifeline to living.. she gave him reason and purpose to go on after Mama died. She did her job well, making sure he took her for a ride every day, that her "din din" was always ready at the same time every day, and she made him exercise by not going outside without him; going over to Papa while he was resting in his chair, drop her tennis ball in front of him, "talking" to him, telling him she wanted to play ball, till he got up. He would hobble into the dining room, using his cane, sit on the floor with his back against the breakfront, and play ball with her, until she had enough.. no matter how tired Papa was!!
When Baby came to live with me, she took on the job of keeping all the "boys" in line. It was a job she took seriously and did so well. With just a snarl of her lip, she had them scattering, making them behave and act like gentlemen!! lol Her biggest job, and I think the one Baby loved and enjoyed the most, was greeting everybody who came through the door. She'd grab a tennis ball or a toy, toss it a round and push it toward you with her nose, shaking and growling at it, until you picked it up and threw it back to her. But, I think her favorite thing to do was to roll over on her back and demand a much loved belly rub. When my friend Jamie lived with me, she sort of adopted Baby as her own. Baby slept on her bed and Jamie would take her for rides in Papa's car.. and on occasion, Jamie would even take Baby to work with her... she was the bell of the ball where ever she went and everyone fell in love with her, which is no less than she deserved and demanded!! lol
Baby, as little as she was, was a huge presence in everyone's life and was so full of love...
I am going to miss Baby terribly, but, I know some day we will all be together again.
Till then, Godspeed Baby.. we love you!
Liz and the "boys"

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