In loving memory of Lilo

American Pit Bull Terrier [See My DogsterPlus Photo Book]
Picture of In loving memory of Lilo, a female American Pit Bull Terrier

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Sex: Female   Weight: 26-50 lbs

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Lilo Wilo

Doggie Dynamics:
not playfulvery playful

Sun Sign:
dog breed photo gamecute funny pet photos and videosDog News and InformationRainbow Bridge
Quick Bio:
-purebred-dog rescue

Gotcha Date:
July 18th 2006

June 1st 2002

Attention, her walks, her tar heels shirt, food, water (seriously), playing razzle

Being ignored, Not being fed EXACTLY on time

Favorite Toy:
Her aqua bone

Favorite Food:
Her wet food

Favorite Walk:
Anywhere, really.

Best Tricks:
Fetch, heel, sit, stay, come

Arrival Story:
Lilo is an amazing dog. Before coming to us, my sister was her owner. My sister and her boyfriend loved Lilo dearly. But, after living here with us for a while, they realized that Lilo was too adjusted and decided it would be in her best interest if she stayed here. Lilo has been with us since. Before my sister, Lilo had been through three other homes. The first took good care of her, but couldn't take her when they moved out of state. The second two not as well. She struck gold when she made it to my sister.

Lilo is getting older now. She is now on a joint supplement to help manage her arthritis. She's gained a few pounds in the past year and I am looking into putting her on a special diet. Some days are better than others, but she's definitely not the young terror (er, terrier) that she used to be.

Forums Motto:
Support bully love. Ban BSL.

The Last Forum I Posted In:
RIP Lilo

I've Been On Dogster Since:
August 4th 2007 More than 9 years!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Dogster Id:

for 3153 days

Meet my family
In loving
memory of
Cinnamon ~
In Loving
Memory of
In loving
memory of Zeus
In memory of
Pumpkin Holly
NobleIn Loving
Memory of Spot
In Loving
Memory of
Gypsy In
In Loving
Memory of
Sandy Baby
In Loving
Memory Of Hank
Meepster (Meep
Precious (Pip
Chi ChiPrincessNinja (Sisters
Sweeney (Todd)Chloe
(sister's dog)

Meet my Pup Pals
See all my Pup Pals
See all my Pup Pals

Lilo the Pibble

Lessons From Dogs

February 5th 2013 9:41 pm
[ Leave A Comment | 4 people already have ]

"No louder shrieks to pitying heaven are cast, When husbands or lap-dogs breathe their last."

Alexander Pope

It's time to face the cold hard facts. If you love dogs, and you have dogs, you are one day going to have to deal with losing dogs. It is something that cannot be avoided. When you open your heart to a dog, you are opening your heart to not only joy, happiness, and a best friend, but loss, grief, and bitter confusion. Every dog you let into your home will warm your heart, just as well as he will one day break it. Dog lovers, however, are willing to take this risk. They are willing to accept the inevitable, because they feel that the years of joy and pride are worth the bittersweet end.

I grew up with animals. As a child, I spent more time around cats, guinea pigs, hamsters, and dogs than I did around other children. Some may argue this wasn't healthy, and perhaps they were right. I was a shy kid, though, and so these furry companions gave me something that I never did find in another child. They gave me friendship. They taught me about unconditional love. They taught me what it meant to love someone so much that you could not imagine your life without them. They taught me about love, life, friendship, and in the end, they taught me even more about loss. Of them all, dogs always held the most special place in my heart. I mourned when I lost my guinea pig, Chucky, to old age. He was my closest friend when I was a child. He took four years of my childhood with him. I miss him to this day. But he can barely hold a candle to the way I feel for my dogs.

Chance was the first dog that was ever truly mine in a way. A family dog, he was all of ours. An American bulldog mix who was plagued with health problems. Rickets, possible hip displasia that never went detected, arthritis, and skin tumors. In his old age, he would hobble around the yard. This never stopped him from enjoying life. Through Chance, I learned a lot. I learned about fighting even when everything looks bleak. I learned that no matter how dark tomorrow seems, that the only thing I can do is push forward. He taught me that just because no one believes in you, doesn't mean it is time to give up. The vet thought he would pass many years ago. My mother thought he would not make it through his first week with us. He made it through that first week. And after he did, he made it through another year, and then another. By the time he was seven, he was slowing down considerably. We thought he would start his decline. He didn't. Chance lived three more years. Three, healthy, long years. Chance taught me to believe in chance. He taught me that with the right amount of determination, anything is possible. When he passed away, I was distraught. My heart ached and I wanted to plead to anyone who would listen. Beg to bring him back. Alas, he was gone. There was no coming back. He was gone. Chance taught me about hope.

Then, there was Cinnamon. Chance was still young when we got Cinnamon. My mother had lost her heart dog, a beautiful Pomeranian, and was seeking companionship elsewhere. Perhaps, it was fate that brought Cinnamon to us. Not because fate knew my mother needed her, but because fate knew that I would. Cinnamon was a great dog. The pet shop we purchased her from told us she would be no bigger than a Pomeranian. When she kept growing, it was clear they had lied. But we didn't get rid of her. We made a commitment, and my mother always raised me to believe that once you brought a pet into your home, the pet was yours for the rest of his life. So, Cinnamon stayed. She became our Moo Moo. The name meant so much to us, for she was so much bigger than the dog we thought she'd be. Cinnamon was always a loving dog. She knew to be gentle. She had her hyper days. Where she'd zoom around the living room, chasing Meepster in circles. But she was always gentle with him. She would herd the little dogs around. When we lived in a house with a fenced in yard, they played outside off leash. If the little ones attempted to go toward the gate, she would follow after them and lead them back. She was gentle toward humans, too. She may have jumped on a person or two in her time, but she always took extra care not to knock them over. She was an angel in her own right. A loving soul who only wanted to make sure everyone around her was safe. She passed away younger than we always thought she would. She left our lives at seven years old, dying so suddenly that it left us all in a state of shock. While she was with us, she taught me so much. Cinnamon taught me about benevolence.

Lilo was brought to us unexpectedly. My sister had taken her in, after she'd been mistreated. She was an unwanted soul, but that never stopped her. She loved everyone she came in contact with, and forgave every home she'd ever been through. When my sister moved to Texas, it became clear that Lilo loved being where she was. So, she left Lilo in our care. We did our best to take care of Lilo. She was much different than Chance and Cinnamon were. She had more energy, more zest. When she was young, she was a can of red bull, a cup of fresh coffee. I would spend hours in the backyard playing with her. We would play fetch and tug, chase and wrestle. She brought out the kid in me. She taught me to be young. To live every day as though it were my last. But she taught me so much more than that. Lilo began slowing down one day. She could no longer keep up with much younger terriers. Her idea of play was now running back and fourth down the hall, until she fell asleep in her crate. I knew in my heart that the end was near. When she passed away, she took many years of my life with her. But I knew that it was for the best. For she was in pain, and I did not like seeing my happy-go-lucky terrier in so much pain. Despite everything - despite her past, her previous homes, her last days - Lilo was always friendly to everyone who knew her. Lilo taught me about devotion.

Each of those three losses hurt me more than any loss I've suffered to date. I have mourned many pets, and I have had my heart broken by several animals with fur. And I understand some people love their cats more than their dogs, or their birds more than their cats. I understand that, and accept that. But for me, my life has always been about dogs. I keep a dog in petting distance. When I'm sad, it's my dog that I reach for. Sandy came to me on Christmas day, 2007. She was just a little thing then. I'll never forget the first time I held her in my arms. On that day, I looked into her soft, brown eyes and the first thing I said to my mother was This is my dog. I did not even ask if she could stay. I merely declared that she was my dog. From that day forth, we have been inseparable. Many say that Sandy is my other foot, my shadow. Sandy has taught me much more than anyone I've ever known. When I lost Chance, Cinnamon, and now, Lilo, it was Sandy's beautiful red fur that caught my tears. When I come home from a hard day, it's Sandy that makes me feel better. Whenever I am sad, or down, she crawls onto my lap and cries as though she is mourning with me. Sandy has taught me about compassion. And when fate has to take Sandy away, I know that the loudest cry ever heard will escape my throat.

So why do we, as dog owners, set ourselves up for such heartbreak, such depression, such loss? I have pondered this many times before, wondered about the reasons that may or may not be. I have come to a bittersweet conclusion. A dog may be the closest to heaven we can get while still on Earth. The dog is pure in many ways, unless he is trained not to be. He believes in his human, no matter what. He loves his human, no matter what. Many dogs will come out of a rough situation, wagging their tail and licking one's face. A dog can teach us so much, too. About hope, about love, about compassion, and devotion. Death is an inevitability. It is unpreventable. Anything that life can touch, can equally be touched by death. Dog lovers accept this because in many ways, our dogs rub off on us. Once you have owned several dogs, your soul starts to resemble theirs. You open yourself up to compassion, to love, to hope, and to benevolence.
And when a dog shows up at your doorstep - fur a mess, ribs poking through his fur - you just know, in your heart, that all the dogs you have loved and lost would want you to take him in. For that would be the compassionate thing to do. A dog takes a piece of your soul when he leaves your life, but in return, he leaves a piece of his with you. And that is why we, as dog owners, continue to have dogs.

"If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans."

James Herriot



November 14th 2008 3:46 pm
[ Leave A Comment ]

Each player starts with seven random facts about themselves. Dogs who are tagged, need to post in their diary the rules and their 7 pawsome facts. Then choose some dogs to tag and list their names. Don’t forget to bark them a pmail that they have been tagged and to read your diary, or, send them a fun Rosette announcing they've been Tagged! And sent them these Rules.
Check out my diary

I was tagged by Monty. :]

1) Daddy has known me since I was 1 year old. Yet, I didn't become part of his pack until I was 4 or 5 years old.
2) I have bat ears! Most APBT's have drop ears; so, this is very cool.
3) My tail wags faster than my feet move.
4) I can jump above Daddy's head.
5) My favorite place to kiss is the chin.
6) I cry a lot if left alone for too long.
7) I'm the friendliest dog in town. Okay; that's a little biased; but bunches of Daddy's friends have said it!!!

I tagged:
Peanut: 41467
Bo: 170216
Yoshi: 243229
Brutus: 372646


I Want To Be Home For Christmas

November 5th 2008 12:44 am
[ Leave A Comment ]

Twas the night before Christmas,
and all through the shelter;
not a creature was stirring,
not even a pinsher.

The dogs were kenneled;
so safely with care.
With hopes that new families,
soon would be there.

In one tiny corner;
a brindle pup sat.
He wasn't too skinny,
too shy or too fat.

But there was something about him,
that no one admired.
So he sat and waited;
for the home he desired.

He could fetch, he could chase;
he could tug and do tricks;
But no matter how cute he was,
he was no ones first pick.

He tried to look cute,
he wagged his tail.
But for some reason,
each time; he failed.

He'd had a home once;
a family and a friend.
They promised they'd love him;
till the very end.

But something happened;
while he was growing up.
He got bigger and bigger;
and was no longer a pup.

The once Christmas present;
became yesterdays news.
And his once best friend;
was entranced with new shoes.

So off to the shelter,
the brindle dog went.
To fend for himself,
without an owner; a friend.

The shelter workers loved him;
treated him with care.
And though he adored them;
they weren't always there.

He needed a bed;
in which to lie.
He needed a home;
where he could live and die.

But as days went by,
his hope slipped away.
There was no home, no family,
no bed in which to lay.

Nobody wanted him,
for reasons so far untold.
Everyone looked past him,
because he was a pit bull.

So because of his breed,
in the shelter he stayed.
Waiting for a family,
to come take him away.

The Christmas before,
he was a present for a son.
But this Christmas,
he had no one.

His cage was opened,
and he was pulled out.
His tail thumped
as he wondered what this was about.

As he was walked down the aisle,
leash around his neck,
the others howled for him;
knowing he was next.

He looked at the man,
walking him along.
A tear rolled down his face;
the dog soon would be gone.

He pushed a door open,
and pushed the dog in.
The pup grew fearful;
this was the end.

His tail no longer wagged;
but instead hid in fret.
Something was different;
for he could smell death.

A whimper escaped him
as he was lifted up;
his ears pulled back
when on the table he was put.

He never struggled;
although he was scared.
For our hero knew that soon
home would be there.

A woman nearby,
pulled out the syringe.
And when she saw the victim,
she couldn't help but cringe.

Not out of fear;
or hate or dislike.
But because for them,
she'd alway fight.

A single tear fell
as the needle she prepared;
wanting to get it over with
so she could be anywhere but there.

She approached him slowly;
just wanting to be home.
She didn't want
for this pit bull to go.

But, she soon injected
the fluid so slow.
And, with a whimper,
it was his time to go.

Soon he was gone,
lifeless with death.
But his previous family;
would feel no regret.

Before he died;
his tail thumped one last time.
As if to say thank you for caring-
for giving me a warm place to lie.

He crossed the bridge-
tail wagging away.
He was safe, he was happy-
he had a warm place to lay.

The woman and man,
shed their last tears.
As they wrapped up the night,
to get out of there.

The woman patted his head,
and gave him a kiss.
His brown eyes, his wagging tail-
were both things she'd miss.

The man was soon gone,
and she was leaving with care.
She looked at the dog,
and spoke through tears.

"We may have lost,
this one small fight...
but, Merry Chrismas, Ringo...
and to all pit bulls, a good night."

-Benji, November 5th, 2008

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