On March 1, 2002, Patricia Bansen sent this glowing tribute of Rita.

Rita met me shortly after I came to Santa Fe with a tail wagging and "I have been waiting for you" in her eyes. I had been suffering depression after a bitter divorce. Then, I had been physically abused by a boyfriend which led to being forced to leave my four year old and my life as I knew it, all that was home to me, and retreat to a safe place to regain my dignity, and to find some medical help. My back required five surgeries.
   
I came home after the first surgery unable to sleep in a water bed or on regular bed. They were too soft. Rita stayed by my side on the floor within petting reach and occasionally would snuffle her cold, wet nose to get my attention. I suppose it was just her way of letting me know she was there in case I needed anything. I had been warned of a side effect from back surgery referred to in the medical community as a spinal fluid leak. It resembles a migraine but it makes a migraine look like a walk in the park by comparison. The pain is like your brain is swelling out of the skull and lifting your head off the pillow is impossible. You cannot move. The pain is unbearable.
   
I had only been a member of Rita's family a short 4 to 6 weeks, the entire time I had been in so much pain it wasn't like the time spent there were days outside playing Frisbee, running around the park or enjoyable times for her whatsoever. I was merely a body who petted her and loved her nudging me to get attention. We, I did not think at that point had any REAL bond to speak of. I was so wrong.
   
The morning I woke up with the excruciating pain in my head almost incapable of speaking, that in itself was painful beyond description. I mouthed, just above a whisper, "Rita, please go get Daddy." She knew what I said and Dave, my friend I had known since high school, who had been housing me, caring for me, and had been the "White Knight " I needed to get through the darkest part of my life, came running in. He said Rita woke him and would not let him go back to sleep. She was persistent and made him follow her to where I was on the sofa. He recognized that I needed medical attention and took me to the neurosurgeon's office promptly.
   
After going through the surgery to repair the leak, I continued to suffer a great deal of back pain. That dog knew my good days and my bad days. On a particularly bad day she would lay at the end of the bed, motionless as not to disturb me or jiggle the bed. She was so intuitive.
   
One Sunday in December she woke up and unlike other days, did not seem interested in breakfast. She at first showed no signs of feeling ill but I did notice later in the day that she was just not acting like herself. I used to suffer from migraine headaches and I mentioned to Dave, my Knight, "If I didn't know better I'm certain she has a headache." She was hiding her head in dark corners, almost attempting to put her head behind the sofa. She wanted to be left alone and slept most of the day. When I would go to my bed that is where she wanted to be, but it seemed to me she tried to want to be as close to me as possible, laying across my body almost grabbing at me, insisting I stay with her. As I look back now, I wish I had been listening the way she listened to me that one night.
   
We went as usual, assuming that she would be fine in the morning. Middle of the night, about 2am or so, Rita crawled on top of me and was panting. I figured she needed to go outside. I turned the light on and her eyes were rolled back; something was REALLY wrong. She lost control of her hind quarters as we headed towards the door and collapsed. I screamed for Dave. We think she must have been suffering from a stroke perhaps or an embolism or may have had meningitis. We will never really know. We just knew she was really sick. The look in her eyes that night was desperate as I must have appeared to her the night I asked her for help.
   
When we got Rita to the vet, they gave little promise of her survival. She never really came out of her semi-comatose state. I stayed in her kennel with her as long as I could. I couldn't spend the night there. I guess that is a bit much to ask, but I knew our vet would have let me stay if I had asked. (he is just that kind of a guy). I kissed Rita, sobbing and praying that I would wake up, but this was no nightmare, this was really happening. I said goodbye and thanked her for saving my life just a couple years before.
   
We got a call about 9pm in the evening on the 13th of December. They had gone to check on her and she passed away quietly. She was still a baby in our eyes. Her mom is 15 and still here. Rita was only 7. We expected several more wonderful years with her. She had so many special qualities. I cannot possibly name them all. One very special thing she could do, I have never seen any other dog do was that when she was happy she would wrinkle her nose up and literally smile.
   
We felt so lost and felt so empty. Ellie being older and getting close to grandma stage, we decided let's not go through Christmas without the smell of puppy breath. Let's bring a new life here, not to replace Rita. That would be impossible but rather to give the love we had to share with another dog who could help us laugh again and share our home.
   
Hannah was a welcome addition and has many of the same qualities Rita had. They resemble one another and Hannah is capable of a wrinkle when triggered by a scratch by the ear. She lifts her lip in an "Elvis" fashion. It is no Rita wrinkle to be sure, but it is a bit uncanny.
   
We have so many photos of Rita and she is remembered fondly in our hearts. There was only one Rita and I am so lucky she was here for me those years when I needed a friend to love me unconditionally, never asking anything from me but that I allow her to hang out with me while I got better. I am convinced she saved my life in two ways.
   
The night when I asked her to go get help and the way she clearly understood what I said. And the fact that I was so terribly beaten down mentally, I was lost emotionally. My spirit was invisible. I had always been such a fighter but I was close to giving up. Fortunately I had the proper dose of medicine that saved my life. I recommend that kind of medicine. It is safer than alcohol or drugs and look what you get in return! You can't buy that kind of antidepressant from any physician! Rita gave her entire life, although short, to make me well. She stayed long enough to make certain I was going to be okay.