Sosa Gets a Birthday!

All of our dogs and cats came to us as orphans. Every time we got a new dog or cat, we would bring the pet to our vet, where they would hazard a guess as to breed, age and make up a birth date. On every subsequent visit to the vet, we would be given a receipt showing who was treated for what, the breed mixture, and how old the pet was in years and months. For some reason, their receipts would show Sosa’s breed as terrier mix, but the age line would be blank.

Sosa found me in May of 2002. And, I do mean that he found me. I went to the stable to ride my horse one day and learned that one of the horse traders had brought in a cute little terrier mutt who needed a home. According to the horse trader, the dog had been taken off the streets in Puerto Rico by a rescue group and sent to Illinois. He had been through a few hands, and now the horse trader was trying to find someone to take the dog. Well, that little dog attached himself to me that day, and by the time I finished riding my horse, he showed no intention of leaving my side. I took the little dog home to see how he would get along with our other two dogs. Everything went well, and he had found a new home.

I wasn’t so sure that I believed the story told by the horse trader. Anyone who has had anything to do with horse traders knows what I mean. Upon closer examination, I found a Puerto Rican rabies tag on his collar. I tracked down the woman that that horse trader had gotten the dog from and learned that the story was true. The organization is called the Save A Sato Foundation, and their mission is to ease the suffering of Puerto Rico’s homeless and abused animals. The word “Sato” is slang for street dog, and they are not treated nicely in Puerto Rico. You can learn more about the organization at www.saveasato.org. My little Sato has become my Velcro dog and loves me more than any dog I have ever owned. I’m very thankful to Save A Sato for rescuing him so he could find his way to my home and into my heart.

Anyway, back to the birthday story. I had Sosa in the vet’s office the other day and asked why they didn’t show his age on their receipts. Well, it seems that Sosa had not been assigned a birth date during his first vet visit in May of 2002. Wanting to correct that situation, the vet tech asked Sosa’s age when we first brought him in, which was 1½ years old. Working backward, she said that he was probably born in December of 2000. “How about using December 3rd as his birthday,” she inquired. “That is perfect,” I replied. “December 3rd is my mom’s birthday!” My mom has been gone for four years now, and I think of her every day. It seemed so fitting that this little dog who has come to mean so much to me should share a birthday with my mom, who I miss very much.