Simply Sito

[Be it known that I wrote this with purpose though I won't yet reveal for what purpose as I can't other than to say it was to obtain help for another girl going through the same thing as Sito has, I thought I'd share. Trust me, if Sito could have used his thumbs this is just as I'm sure he would write it too!]

Well, hello there! My name is Sito; simply Sito. I’m a simple guy with simple wishes, though three months ago my wishes were much greater.

My foster Mom tells me I’m young and though I don’t know what young really means; I know she says it’s something about me not knowing a whole lot about life. Between you and me, I’ve got to tell you she might be right, but I know a few things that are important. The most important thing is I know I’m ALIVE!

I didn’t used to feel it, but I do now. I didn’t even know what alive really meant a few months ago. But even then, I sure knew what it meant when my friends left their kennels with people giving hugs and kisses to them and I sat there waiting for my turn. They looked ALIVE, their tails would wag and they would jump in excitement as people smiled and loved on them.

I sat in my kennel not understanding how the process worked to become ALIVE, but I was patient. Whenever people would come, I’d be a really good boy and wag my tail. They’d say I was pretty, but then I’d hear them say I was too skinny so I must be sick and they’d pick another dog to become alive. I definitely knew what sick was, I always had an upset tummy and I had a cough I couldn’t get rid of. I was hungry too, no matter how much I ate I was always hungry. I was starting to get used to being sick and some days sick just felt normal to me. It didn’t matter though, I was just hopeful that one day a person would pick me and I’d be alive too.

After waiting and waiting, a nice girl; her name is Katie and I know her now, well she came to look at me. She told me somebody wanted me and she was going to take me home. I hoped she didn’t notice I was sick so I tried to look fat with my ears up. She filled out some paperwork and smiled at me. I knew it, my turn! THERE IT WAS!!!! I BECAME ALIVE!!!!

On my leash and out the door, let’s go quick because earlier today I heard somebody Friday was my last day and it was Thursday. If there’s one thing us dogs know is what “last day” means, we don’t know what a calendar is, but we do know that somber feel around us on the last day. Anyhow, no more sappy stuff! I AM ALIVE!!!!

Katie took me to the vet to find out what was making me sick and they found out I had heartworm and anemia from something. They gave me medicine and I started taking it. I went to Katie’s house and made some new friends. It felt so good to be free of my kennel and run and play. I knew I still felt sick but I didn’t care, I had friends, food, medicine, and even a little boy to love me.

A few weeks passed and Katie got sad, I didn’t know why but she put my leash on and took me in the car. I went to meet some other dogs and we all got in a different car. I didn’t know what was going on but I went for a really long ride and changed cars and went with other dogs and then changed cars again and again. I was missing Katie and my little boy, Blaze, and I really missed my friend Gidget, but I did enjoy having some new dog friends on the ride.

People loved on me and teased me about needing to “get some groceries”, I knew they were good people but I was really skinny so I can’t blame them for teasing me.

After two days of riding in cars, I met two ladies named Vikki and Katie in a car. They said I was going with them to Michigan. I thought, what is Michigan? Then they brought me to a new house and I met Xena and Moxie who are yellow labs like me, but they were both fat. They were nice to me. I knew right away Xena was the boss and I had to be nice to her, so I did.

Later that night, Vikki told me it was okay that I was skinny and sick and that Moxie used to be like that too. I laughed; Moxie? Skinny? NO WAY! BOL-BOL (that’s dog speake for bark out loud twice). I wondered if I could even run if I got big like Moxie.

After I’d been with Vikki for a few days I started feeling really bad, but she told me not to worry that she was going to take me to the vet again. She did take me and I had lots of tests run. Renee and Dr. Jim were really nice to me at the vet. I like Renee and she likes me. I kissed her a lot.

Renee told me I had heartworm really bad and that if I didn’t start treatment right away I might not live long. I didn’t know what “stage three” meant, but I assumed it was bad. She also said I had terrible infection of parasites and that’s why I had been coughing up blood. Whip worms aren’t too bad unless you’ve had them for a long time and I had had them ever since I could remember; they make me breath really hard in order to get air. Renee gave me some medicine that she said would kill the whip worms and the hook worms and then she said I might start putting on weight a little. She scheduled a couple of appointments for me and told me she’d get me feeling better, in fact, she promised! I knew what promises were because Katie had promised me I was going to a good place and I did, so promises mean it will be what they say it will be.

In the last couple of months I’ve gone through lots of vet visits and even though I know Dr. Jim is trying to help me live long and be healthy because that’s what he promised he would do, sometimes the shots they give me hurt. I don’t like Immiticide but I know I need it to stay ALIVE. It stings going in and needle has to go really deep in me and then it makes my muscles hurt and I have to take pain medication too.

It’s hard but I’m getting better and I’m getting fat; not like Moxie fat, but I’m not skinny any more. I think all the whip worms and hook worms are dead because they don’t make me take that medicine anymore. I still have a cough sometimes but Vikki said she’ll get me tested for worms again.

Anyhow, I’m definitely ALIVE and I love my house and my sisters, but I know Vikki is just taking care of me until I’m better. Some really nice people have adopted me and I have a new brother named Cooper and we play a lot when I’m not getting injections. I also have two little girls that love me and like to play ball with me and (don’t tell Vikki) but they let me sleep in their bed when I stayed with them for the weekend. They are really nice and I can’t wait until I get to stay there again.

I’m still staying with Vikki until I’m all done getting healthy and then I have a new home and family to go to and Vikki says that’s where I really get to feel good and do things I couldn’t do while I was sick. I’m so excited!

Even though I’m feeling better, I keep worrying about my friend, Gidget. I’ve learned tricks for Vikki because she said she’d send money to Gidget every time I learned something new. I can sit, I can stay, I can shake, I can roll over and I’m potty trained now too. Vikki couldn’t send enough to cover all of Gidget’s treatment, but she sent some every time I learned a new trick, so I sure hope my all of my learning helps Gidget get better too.

Gidget has heartworm just like I did. She was pregnant when I left there to come to Vikki’s house so she couldn’t get fixed up yet. She had her puppies just after I left. About 2 weeks ago, I got to meet all of Gidget’s puppies. They were little and didn’t really look us labs, but they were really fun to play with for a few hours before they went to Canada to their forever homes.

Well anyhow, I better get back to my bone soon, it’s been staring at me asking to chew on it for a while now.

I took a break from it because Vikki said if I wrote my story, maybe I could get some help paying for Gidget’s heartworm treatment and she can get better and get a forever home too.

I didn’t mind taking a break from my bone, if it will help Gidget. I sure hope I wrote it well, I’m not a good writer; I’m simply Sito; but I am ALIVE!





















This is Gidget, she could use some help with her treatment costs too. If you'd like to know how to help, please comment or message Vikki on Facebook and she'd be glad to direct you. If not, it's okay, we just hope you enjoyed reading.

PS:  If you donated to me and my treatment, I don't have enough bones in this world to thank you, but you knowing I am ALIVE and I am happy, I hope that makes you feel ALIVE too!

A Dog Story - For my Fur-riends

So I started the story in a thread, so I feel the need to finish it up...right!

When I was married to my first husband (yes, I've had three - and I have it right now), we had a Rotty. His name was Bucky. We also had a boat. We would take weekend "vacations" on Wet Dream II. We had neighbors that we were close to. They agreed that since Bucky was not a swimmer that they would watch Bucky for us. We pre-paid them $40.00 a day to take care of him at our house, after all they were neighbors with one of them out of work. We came home on Sunday to have them tell us Bucky, his house, dishes and outdoor cable disappeared in the night.

I hunted rescues, shelters and any Internet (dial up at that time in 1992) postings that showed anything local about a rotty. I came up empty and broken hearted at every search and question. It killed me, he was my boy! Not housebroken fully but it killed me that someone stole him. Not only had we paid good money for him, but he was our pet, our love, our buddy.

In my search I went to Romulus animal shelter. I ran into Zeus there. He was 1 year old lab who had failed airport search training. He was an eater, (which properly defined meant he loved to eat what he was trained to search for). In that, he was failed from training and sent to auction.

He'd been bought at auction by a lady who owned a party store. She had bought Zeus for protection at the store at night.

One night she went into work at Huron River Drive and Northline at her party store. She didn't take Zeus (not sure that he could have prevented it), but she was shot in the stomach during a robbery that night.

For months after, her family cared for Zeus. She just couldn't. They asked her what to do with him as he was burden pup, (about Sito's age). Their family was friends with the animal control officer and she agreed to take him into the shelter 4 days a week, trying to find a home for him.

In my search for Bucky, I fell in love with Zeus. He was very hard to resist and even bringing Jason there are less than a year of age, he was great fit. I couldn't resist and finally agreed, he WAS MY PUP!

I brought him home and put a board across the kitchen doorway (no door there) so he couldn't rush the front living room door.

My husband came home while I was at work and Zeus had made his way over my blockade (a Houdini of sorts), and decided to defend our home. I got a furious cell call at the office asking me WTH I had brought home.

Hours after (my husband fearing to enter our home) was sitting a local friends house and Zeus became our own. Jason was young but clinged to Zeus with all he had.

Long story, made short - - Zeus became our friend. He outlasted two husbands and whole lot drama. He was my rock, and Jason's too. With him, Jason and I both took the time to figure out our wants and needs in life and ultimately we left our homes twice and ended up right back in the town we started. Zeus by our side the entire way.

After marrying Jerod and building this house, we came back here in 2005. Zeus and Xena (I had bought her for field and show in 2001) came here to fulfill everything I know as life today. Zeus was failing in old dog health, his hips asking me to shovel paths in the snow; much like you would read in "Marley and Me" and I did it. He would fall and I would go out barefoot to pick him up. It was our life and I never regretted it. He was the one that pulled me through hard times and I would never question doing the same for him. Shovel snow and pick him up - - - NOT A PROBLEM!!!

In 2007 he had a cough, and after several ear infections I could consider nothing other than it was back. New antibiotics required. Xena did her salute ride and went with us to the vet. Jason was in school and Jerod gone to work. It was a simple ear infection, right?

That very day in April I had to choose to put my buddy, my not-so-secret-lover down. His age had gotten the best of him. It was not an ear infection but a really bad situation. His esophagus had twisted, old age had reduced his muscle tone. When he laid his head down, he coughed, not because he was sick but because he was drowning of old age. He'd lived a full life; he'd been our defender, our true friend, our "lay on floor and listen to Neil Diamond - had a bad day" dog, he'd been through husbands and friends, he was a true as he could be; but age claimed him.

He could not withstand surgery or anesthesia and even if he could, surgery could not guarantee his comfort as his muscle tissue was aged and not able to hold stitches that would support eating and drinking stresses. I had to do what I had to do. Xena was with us; I had thought it an ear infection returned; boy oh boy, what to do? By my side, Renee told me the right thing. She was stronger and more separated. I did what was right by him even though every part of me begged not.

Renee asked me for Xena's lead and took her to the back room saying "she needs to know". Renee walked her back to him and I'll never forget her scream. You would have sworn there was wolf crying the almighty wolf scream the back room as Zeus layed there lifelessly and I walk back and beg her away.

It took me several days to return to work; face swollen worse than a chipmunk from all my tears. It took all I could stand to get Jason from school that day to tell him what I had to do. In his heart of hearts, he'll never say, but I swear he doesn't forgive me for not having him there when I made the choice I had to make. Xena still mourns him on irregular basis by grabbing his collar from his urn and it is years later. Even Moxie and Sito are now grabbing his collar, never knowing him but knowing Xena's comfort in doing so.

He still guards my front door and in his absence Xena, Moxie and now Sito have learned to guard and mourn too.

Crazy, I am and crazy I'll be. You can't take the lab out of my heart if you tried! To this day, Moxie and Sito have no real clue but Xena does. There was a lab before them; one who stole my heart and I will NEVER forget.

Sito Update - 03302012

Who knew a dog could steal so much heart in a few short days. He arrived here on 19th of the month and has been such a eager, loving boy.

Not one kid has walked through my door that didn't find him both pitiful and adorable at the same time. This goes for adults too, but he's fond of the younger ones - - - follows them all around the place.

In the few short days he's been here he's become crate trained, learned to sit and stay, and an undesired (at least in this house) trick of opening the toilet lid to serve himself water.

He's doing great on potty training (thanks in part to my niece, Katie, who kept up great work with him when we vacationed). We had no accidents for four days straight, but today had one. I might be able to blame it on the hail.

He went out in it, but picked up his feet funny and didn't want to walk around it. Two hours later with little warning, he pottied on the edge of the carpet and tile; near the door. He was scolded with a "NO" to which he responded well and then I took him outside where he finished his business...albeit on two footed dance to do a number two. He doesn't know what to do with the balls of ice in the ground. Add to hail the toilet trick and I understand why, but it's still an inexcusable boo-boo and he seems to know it. Louisiana boys don't get the ice and cold is part of the routine, I guess.

He's great with little kids in play. They love sharing and tossing a toy across the living room for him to bring back almost as much as he does. I haven't allowed them to give him treats yet. He doesn't understand the concept of "easy" in situations of competition over food. From the confines of his crate he's gentle with treats, but in the open he's a snatcher. He doesn't bite, but his teeth graze skin before he slows the snap.

He's putting on some weight, not a lot; but we see less bones in him. I need to see if the vet right up the street would allow me to monitor his weight on a weekly basis as he's too big to do the bathroom scale thing with.

He's got an occasional "gag", mostly after just eating, that I'm monitoring. He doesn't vomit, but gags to almost a cough. It could be a result of doxy he's taking for HW prevention (slow kill of microfilia), but I think it's more likely another instance of immediate resource use (not a guarding issue at all as the others can come near his food or toys and he shows zero want to prevent it). He just doesn't like to leave food to chance; a gulper. But can you blame a bone rack for wanting grub?


Overall, he's snugly, playful, willing to learn, and well mannered boy.

We'll be working on more obedience commands and definitely working on the food/treat take tactic. He's got to mellow that out.

Stayed tuned for further updates as this FINE BOY progresses!

Positive Anguish

Is there such a thing as positive anguish? I'm guessing there must be because I'm up after midnight, (sober - mind you) and feeling sorrow and happiness at the same time.

I've always known how much hard work it is to work for an animal rescue without ever having to do it. I mean, look at the world - for every person needing rescue or assistance there is a litter of dogs or more.

Today I witnessed via the internet 10 pups brought into the world. Ignorance (not in a bad way) of new momma dog then proceeded to take the lives of her own. It's been hard to watch, but I'm not living it here, but there is one foster Momma that is. Bless her bleeding heart of ache!

I've witnessed a dog that ripped it's own stitch out and was causing her foster Mom much grief because there is virtually no way to stop a dog from doing such a thing.

In the past week I've witnessed some 60+ people working hard to coordinate a transport for several dogs to get them on to fosters so they could reach out to others dogs in need. Trust me, I've watched and I've tried to help too, but unless you are involved in such things you just can't imagine the depths these people reach into to accomplish it. We're talking 20 legs from Louisiana to Ontario Canada with too many dogs to fit in one vehicle. They've successfully hunted down about 35 drivers willing to help in multiple cities across the country. I surely don't have the ability to coordinate that kind of effort and these people do it; not only successfully, but often.

I can't help but think in it all that there is good that cannot be out weighed by the bad, no matter how bad it is.

Why can I see this in a rescue, but can't see it in the world as whole? I don't want to get political about it, but I have to think there is a core in it that is very similar. Unless you care enough to let yourself feel the anguish, you just don't care enough and that's where the positive part comes in.

Rescue operators are not quitters, they are not cheaters, they are not selfish or self serving. There is nothing in it for them except knowing they did something for a animal that the animal couldn't have possibly done for themselves and they can then do it again.

Pay it forward in whatever way you can and keep paying it forward until you feel that positive anguish. If you think it's not making a difference - - know that I know it is!

Scrooged or Just Plain ol' Cranky?

I was doing just fine a few weeks ago. I was a busy little bee preparing for the holidays and I can't pinpoint what changed. I just know something has. I'm 95% ready for the holidays so it's not the hustle and bustle getting the best of me. Heck, I'm even almost ready for our New Year's celebration too.

My work is so slow right now that any email gets my immediate attention so I'm not over-worked either. In fact, it's dragging so slow that I'd love to just take vacation time. I have time available, but I also hate to miss the last minute problems that always creep in just before a holiday break. They're always the type of problems that interrupt vacation so much you hate to get started on a break and then get called back into a problem or sent out on one.

I'd like to think the Scrooge hasn't crawled in my ear when I was sleeping, but something has gotten into me.

Maybe it's the confined feeling of being in the office almost 3 full weeks in a row. When I'm in the office, I really don't have much for work. I just handle my emails and instant urgencies; otherwise my job isn't within our walls - it's within those of our suppliers and customers.

Maybe I need a job in accounting again? Just for December every year? It'd be really nice to have a constant flow of work to pass the time. It'd also be really nice to have a constant flow of husband at home when I'm home, but it seems when my year slows his speeds up and vice versa.

UNSCROOGE ME NOW!!!

Solitary Confinement

If you've ever driven the 401 highway alone, it is clearly an enduring trip whether you need to be on it for two hours, six or ten. It's desolate along the edges, lined with farms, fields and more fields; nothing to affix yourself to as a measure of progress. I honestly think the Canadian government puts the multitude of signs along it in two languages so that by the time you reach Toronto you're at a first grade reading level in French.

Now imagine this desolate drive sans sky. It's pouring rain so badly that your wipers don't have an appropriate speed, your satellite radio has a signal and then it doesn't; every two seconds it's out. You decide to shut it off. You're in a tunnel of everlasting corn fields and whisking rain with an occasional vehicle to pass or to pass you leaving you in a more enduring tunnel - no focus.

It's these moments of solitary confinement that I let my brain wander. I know, I work for a safety company, how can I let my brain wonder while I'm behind the wheel? I can't; it just does when it's so bored silly.

In this transfixed state of boredom, I played "what if" by myself for four everlasting hours today. In doing so, I realized several things that are good about my life:

A. If you allow it, solitary travel allows you to learn some happiness with yourself and realize that some things you thought were so wrong of you, may never have been intended in the first place.

B. If I had married my first love, I would have been widow at 31.

C. If I wreck this car because I'm not focused on my driving, it may be a while until the next car comes along.

D. If I had rented a GM vehicle, I would have had OnStar and not had to worry about how long it might be for next car to come along.

E. If I had stayed married to my second love, I would have been a widow at 40.

(Yikes, there's a pattern here!)

F. If I hadn't have lost my job working for a good company I would have never ended up in the cool job I have now.

G. If it's such a cool job, I should probably focus on driving and not wrecking.

H. If I do wreck, I can't possibly be the first person to have to explain that I was busy playing "what if along" this damn road that never ends.

I. If I hadn't married my third love, I would never taken the job that allowed me to meet my real love.

10. If I hadn't met my third love, I would have never met the one girl that made it feel okay for me to love my real love.

11. If I hadn't met my third love, I wouldn't have really known how love fails and I wouldn't have known how to outwit it in my future.

Focus here, focus:

L. If I hadn't have met my real love, I wouldn't have moved back to the great United States. [oh hell yes, we have our problems but I got a Canada refresher this week and would still take the US over other options].

M. If hadn't have lived in Canada, I might never have know how great it is to live in a country that allows me the things I earn, even if I have to pay for things that others don't earn themselves.

N. If I hadn't have moved back to the US when I did, I would never have been able to spend the wonderful days I did get with my mother when she was dying.

O. If I hadn't met my husband, I wouldn't have had the wonderful mother in law that convinced me that if I didn't spend those dying days with my mother, that I would regret forever and ever. (God, love her!)

16. If I didn't have this job that makes me travel all over the damn universe of corn, I wouldn't have time to play "what if" and realize how good life is even when I didn't plan it this way.

Q. If I hadn't realized I didn't plan it this way, than I wouldn't wonder Who did and how He diverted so many of my plans to make who He wants me to be.

18. If I don't pay attention I'm going to rear-end this semi-truck in front of me now that the highway has ended. Hello Windsor!

S. If you haven't played "what if" with yourself and intentionally looked for the bright and sunny side, then you may not know who you are at all. It's also likely that you don't appreciate yourself well enough until you explore all that you could have been and all that you have ended up being. I can almost guarantee that if you spend your solitary confinement wondering these things you will smile at the end of the day. It's easy being happy knowing your best laid plans and efforts were diverted IF you look for the bright side!

World's Best Mother-in-Law

I'll admit it. My first meeting with my Mother-in-law was one that terrified the heck out of me. She wasn't meeting me under the best of circumstances. If I had been in her shoes, I don't know if I'd have been nearly the woman she was to me. It was a camping trip, so I figured the worst case would mean we stayed in the river and didn't come into the camp site until lights out; but I never even thought of that strategy again after our welcomed arrival.

Both my Mother and Father-in-law were welcoming. Regardless of the situation that brought Jerod and I together, they didn't let it interfere with how they treated me. If they had troubled over us, they sure let me have the benefit of doubt and didn't let the doubt show. By the end of the trip, I remember her hugging me and saying "After seeing Jerod as happy he is, I'm happy too". Her kind words slithered into my soul allowing relief within me.

After seeing this emailing, (click this text to link) I'm dually lucky in that I married Jerod and thus have his parents instead of what this woman is about to embark upon.


I don't find this "mom-zilla" too bad either. Most of the things she mentioned are simple manners. Although the times are different, the behavior should have been passed on and displayed on some level. I may not totally agree with the "wake when the house does" as I never want my guests to feel that way. Yet, I understand the courtesy and was taught it just as I quoted it. Vacation or free time is too precious to waste and others should not have to wait on me for their day to start, but sleep is precious too and I'll grant it to anyone whose body tells them they need it.

In any case, I didn't have to fret about my mom-in-law at my wedding. She was the one carrying an assorted tray of drinks into the dressing room housing only my maid of honor and me. She might have wanted to make sure I wasn't going to say no after all the turmoil Jerod and I had created in the families, but I think it's simply that she recognized her son and I for who we are. She was willing to let us play our lives our way. It could also be that she recognized we all have a way of messing up life before we figure out how to do it right; knowing her now she hadn't let hope run off without beckoning it back for us.

Even if Jerod turned out to be a complete jerk of a husband, I might have married him just to have his parents. Instead, I'm just blessed with awesome family all around me.

Oh, and my MIL...she cooks with wine too! Utensil in one hand, wine glass in the other; how could I ever go wrong in that?