Oue Beginnings ...

My friend John was a veterinarian. In 1998, he was working at an emergency clinic and called to tell me that a stray dog had been hit by a car and needed a foster home in which to recuperate - she had to be crated for six weeks while her hip healed.

I was living with my parent's while pursuing a graduate degree at Pitt. My dog Jack had moved in with me and shared residence with my parent's Ashley and three cats. Did we really need another dog? Even for six weeks? Sure! I had Jack's crate and a decent sized basement living space. So home she came. Once she was settled into the crate, she began her very low keening sound, rather like a motor gaining momentum ...rrrrr, rrrrrrr, rrrrrrrr. My father suggested naming her "Mona" in honor of the never ceasing moaning sounds that John insisted were not from pain.

Fast forward ten years and I can assure you the moaning/keening sounds are part of her makeup.

Mona had to remain in her crate around the clock. She could walk slowly outside to do her business and was to be carried up and down the steps -- she weighed about 40 pounds. She hated the crate, so I would let her lie on my bed when I was home studying or reading.

I knew she was going to stay the day I came home from school and found her laying on the sofa with my Dad while he watched the Cooking Channel. They were sharing Ritz Crackers. The family dogs were in the backyard with nary a Ritz Cracker in site.

Thus was born Miss Mona.