Sassy Cissie

Cissie was a sassy little farm animal, 10 years old and tough as nails. She was born Cavatelli, on August 30, 1991. She was a lovely red brindle with four white socks and and snappy black eyes. The first 10 years of her life are a mystery as she has no recorded races and only six offspring registered from two litters.

Brent and I had no intention of adding a third dog to our household but one late evening in January 2001 I found this note on the Greyhound-List.

Help! Cissie needs help! This 10 year old brood matron has been living on a concrete floor in a breed farm garage in Ocala, Florida. The breeder is done with her. Anybody got room?

The whole story of her miraculous journey from Florida to Montana is chronicled in the Spring 2002 edition of Celebrating Greyhounds magazine. Suffice to say she joined our family that April and we became a three-hound household.

It was clear Cissie had spent her life fending for herself and the first few weeks were no-nonsense ones for her. She was a small statured, hard muscled dog with a deep voice and an extra large personal bubble. More than once I wondered what in the world I’d done bringing her into our family. But slowly, with some equally no-nonsense guidance, she stopped snarling and began to believe she belonged with us. She never dropped her “tough guy” persona, but over time, the “imp” in her emerged.

We both loved Saturday mornings when I’d get up early, curl up in my robe on the couch and read. The routine was always the same. Cissie would sidle up to the couch. I’d invite her to join me – her cue to stick her nose in the air, turn her head away and act as if the whole notion was absurd. Then I would grab her and haul her unceremoniously up on the couch and into my lap. She would let out a resigned sigh as if she was doing me a huge favor. Then she’d relax and fall sound asleep. Our snuggle time was always preceded by her little game of “hard to get.”

She taught me a lot in our time together. She always made me work a little harder for her love. Looking back, there’s remains a deep ache for the loss of her.