Ritta

She is 13 months old and she was abused to what degree, we can never guess. Her life a mess, so young, what to do? One day a stranger came and put her in a truck, to the dog pound she went. 

There were nice? People there, nice people that gave her medicine and they fed her. She got food, medicine, and a bed. They even gave her a name, they called her Ritta. 

Ritta watched day in and day out as people walked passed her kennel. She began to get sadder and sadder. She saw her friends leave with their new families. No one ever seemed to ever pick her and she began to give up. Another day passed and another day passed, Ritta continued to stare at the wall. Ritta looked mean and scary to most people and because she was always staring at the corner, people continued to pass her by.

One day a new family passed her by she continued to stare into the corner. As the family started to pass a second time Ritta did not hide her face fast enough for the family not to see her. She had been seen and the mom stopped in her tracks. 

The asked to meet and play with Ritta, the workers told the family that she was a sweet girl, a 50 pound lap dog and extremely shy, but very loving. They explained that people don’t like to adopted the shy dogs, they all want puppies. 

The family adopted Ritta and then they discovered how loving she was. They also discovered her fears! 

She was scared of paper, newspaper, magazines, bags blowing in the wind; Ritta quivered and cowered down on the ground. If anyone raised their voices or yelled she cowered in a corner or sit by you quivering. Bangs, loud chicks, sudden noises or movements sent her running to her bed shaking. 

The worst part was when the mom came home with a new job and her new gun! Ritta looked at it and walked straight to her bed and did not move until the gun was put away.

Ritta is my dog now and she always amazes me. She is smart and now almost fearless, with the occasional flashback of fear from her past. Today is you raise your hand and have a magazine or newspaper in it she barks and waits… for you to throw it so she can shake it to shreds. Now at 9 ½ years old she continues to take my breath away.

The below picture is of Ritta during the summer of 2013.