SHS's Sunshine and Cinnamon HCT~s TT CGC TDI VCC
August 26, 1989 - December 12, 2001

I don't think I have seen Greg cry but once, when he lost his uncle. Twice now. He loved her as much as I did. I had Sissy when Greg and I met. She had this thing about guys at the time. Most of my best friends were male, so when one of them would come by the house, and go to pat her head, she would wag her tail. As soon as they went to pet her head, she would BARK! into their hand! They would jump back and she would grin. She did it with every male friend I had......except Greg. The first time she met Greg, she ran up to him just as she did to ME, smiling and treating Greg as an old, dear friend whom she had not seen in years. My mom told me I better keep him. So, I did. Perhaps that was Sissy's mission here with me and my family. To make sure that Greg and I stayed together. She's done a fine job if that is the case. We are happier than we've ever been.

We will be forever indebted to our friend Regina for taking her time in Starkville over 10 years ago to take the shelter dogs to the TV station. If not for Regina, I would never have had Sissy in my life. Sissy's first Angel. My family would never have known what a special dog she was. Her patients in the rehab center, nursing homes, and Alzheimer unit would never have been blessed with such a happy visitor. Regina, please know that she was and is loved, so very much. She was happy, she was loved, and she loved back.

Sissy was adopted and brought home when she was 2 years old as a dog for my mother. She had never been on a leash or been inside a house, much less had any obedience training and was 30 pounds underweight. Long story short, she loved everyone, but I was her soulmate, and she loved me with all of her heart and soul. I will always be thankful that my mother decided to keep Sissy until I could graduate from college, since my apartment would not allow dogs. My mom is another Angel in Sissy's life.

My mother knew when I was almost home because Sissy would begin to tear through the house faster than any dog we've ever seen, appearing as if she had only two legs directly under her, rather than four. This would apparently occur when she would hear my car down Old Canton Road. When I would get in the house, she was still in what we called her "Butt-Scooch Boogie". My mom told everyone how much alike we were and we really were. Sissy was not only a housetrained, spoiled and loved inside dog, but went on to attend and pass two obedience classes, her CGC, the ATTS temperament test, her AHBA HCT on sheep, Versatile Canine Companion, and became a wonderful certified pet therapy dog.

Everyone who met Sissy wanted to know what breed she was. One man stopped me in the park to ask when she would be having more puppies and quickly let me know he wanted one. I smiled and told him she was spayed, and that she would be having no puppies. I told him I had adopted her from an animal shelter and suggested he take a look to see what he could find. Dogs like Sissy are being put to death every day in shelters around our state and the country. All shelter dogs have something to give, if only given the chance. Sissy was living proof of what wonderful, loving companions await us in rescue and at shelters.

When we first brought her home, I researched many books, looking for a similar breed. Surprisingly, the breed she resembled the most was a Soft Coat Wheaten Terrier. However, at her correct weight, she weighed 55 pounds, her tail had never been docked, and her ears flew straight up, rather than the typical drop of a Wheaten Terrier. She did have the characteristic grey behind her ears and her personality was Wheaten through and through. Even until the end.......most Wheaten owners will tell you that Wheaten Terriers never grow old, and this was certainly true of our Sissy. She never aged, nor did her personality ever change in the 10 and 1/2 years we loved her.

After Casey, our Bouvier, arrived in our lives, many began telling us they thought Sissy was a fawn Bouvier. I guess we'll never know, although she was more of the size of a Bouvier. There were also many times when she and Casey had the exact same expressions and ways of doing things. Whatever she was, she was full of special, mischievous, cherished, whimsical, and charming ways. She was affectionate, but only on her terms. Her kisses were given oh, so seldom, but that made them that much more delightful to receive. Only those she loved most got kisses and even those were brief and rare. Hugs were pretty much the same, rare, but appreciated. Just a few days before her death, she had ridden in to town with Greg and me, sitting on the front seat between us. We were sitting at the post office and she looked up at me. I reached over and pulled her close to me, knowing she was going to stay about a nano-second, then pull away. Much to my surprise, she pushed closer to me and laid her head on my chest. She stayed for about a minute, looked up at me and then the moment was gone. But it was a moment I will forever cherish, because it was so unlike her. I wonder now if she knew then that her time left with us was so very short.

How I miss that mischievous look in those dark, beautiful brown eyes of hers, watching her tail wag ninety-to-nothing, knowing she could talk you into anything. Casey exhibit behavior. s this same behavior.....is it learned? Or that of a typical Bouvier? I find no matter how much I think I have learned, no matter how much Sissy taught me, I still have so very much to absorb about the wonderful world of dog

Her short herding career came to an end a few years ago when she developed a bone spur near her lumbar. This in itself would not have been an issue, but Sissy was one of those dogs who gave her heart to everything she tried. She absolutely would not let you know if she were in pain until it was all over. The first time she was on sheep in a small pen, she completely wore off both of her large, front pads. We never knew it until the lesson was over. She never gave one sign. When Sissy and I tried for her first herding title, the AHBA HCT~s, she had been on sheep three times; twice in a small stall, and once in a 30 foot pen. When we arrived, Greg and I felt our hearts fall. It had been raining non-stop there in Missouri and many of the fields looked like catfish ponds, rather than fields of grain. Anyone having loved a Terrier knows of their inability to do ANYTHING if water is involved with where they walk. And right in the middle of the round pen was a huge mud puddle. Our turn finally came, and in we walked. To my surprise, and delight, she never saw water! All she saw were her sheep! Lickety-split, she ran THROUGH the huge mud puddle, round and round in the wet grass, moving her sheep to earn both legs for her HCT~s! When she came out of the round pen, she was covered with mud from head to toe! It took us 10 minutes to hose the mud off, and of course she hated this, as it involved water! But, did this little girl ever love to herd. She lived it, still making sure that the sheep here at the house never ventured too close to the fence at the backyard. She was a good little herder.

Sissy taught me so much about dogs, training, and life. One of the things she taught me, which some people never learn, is that dog aggression is never directed toward anything but other dogs. There are so many people who have missed knowing a wonderful soul because they didn't understand this. I also learned she didn't have nearly the dog aggression problem I thought she did. Some things suggested to me early in her training caused her problem to worsen, but as she grew older, we had worked through most of that even. Corrected using the right methods, I now seriously doubt she would have ever had a problem with other dogs. She accepted our Great Pyrenees, Mags, with grace and joy, just as she did with Adam and Casey. But of course, I handled things differently with each of them, having learned how to manage this kind of situation correctly in the last few years.

Sissy also taught me about courage, always demonstrating her never ending devotion to her family. This was evident at least two times that I can remember. The first was when we took Sissy and Adam, our Australian Shepherd, to try for the American Temperament Test Society's temperament test. Adam went first and passed with flying colors. While he and Dad were in the stands video taping, Sissy and I went in for our turn. Right before it was time for the "bad man", Adam barked out from the stands as if to warn Sissy to watch out. Everyone cracked up. When the bad man came, he was in for a surprise! Sissy, a mixed breed Wheaten Terrier, was the only dog that day among the Shepherds, Dobes, Rotts and other protection breeds who actually went after the bad man. And did she ever! No one was going to hurt her mom! Of course, the bad man was actually a friend from our agility club and afterwards Sissy and Adam both ran up to Carl to be petted and loved on.

The other time, most vivid in my mind, where Sissy demonstrated her love and devotion was a few years ago. Adam and I had been at a day long dog event and when we came in, Greg and I were too tired to cook. I had decided to go to a fast food place for supper and took Sissy with me as she was not able to go earlier that day. She was belted in the front seat with me in her seat belt. We arrived at the drive through and there was a small truck in front of us with a little child in the back seat. The man driving the truck seemed to be having a bad day and had driven past the first window without paying. He literally threw his truck in reverse and started speeding backwards. I blew my horn a bit to let him know I was behind him. This apparently angered the man, so he drove back even faster and almost hit me. I blew my horn again. His truck door flew open and he threw the money in the window to the girl, and started back to my truck. He was yelling and screaming and asked if I had a problem. I answered him honestly and told him yes, I had a problem with his almost hitting my truck. I told him I didn't know what his problem was, but that he needed to go get back in his truck. He started closer to my truck, yelling even louder and by this time Sissy had decided this was not good. She leapt over me as far as she could with her seat belt on (of course, he didn't know this) and began to give him the business, barking and growling, letting him know in no uncertain terms that he should do as I had asked. I had never seen anyone's face actually turn white before, but I did that day. The color drained from his face as reality set in. He did indeed turn around and got back in his truck without another word. Had he had a tail, I am sure that it would have been neatly tucked between his legs. And I, of course, praised Sissy and ordered her some chicken nuggets!

She also taught me the truth about unselfish love for others and showed me sometimes you really do have an Angel in your corner. Sissy was my Angel on Earth, sent to me at a time when I probably needed an Angel most, having just lost the most precious person in my life a few months before; my grandmother. My little blonde wild child went on to share not only my life, but the lives of my family and a host of friends met through dog clubs, health care facilities, and our many outings. She gave her all in everything she did and gave her heart to me.

Sissy lived life to its fullest, never letting much bother her. Wet grass was about all that could bring her to a halt. Sissy was my sunshine, my little piece of Heaven. She was the epitome of what we think of when we think of unconditional love, for she loved me like no other on this Earth and she knew I loved her with my whole heart. She always believed in me, and loved me, no matter what. She showed me that we should always follow our dreams and believe in ourselves.

Sissy was, and will always be, a little piece of my soul.