Remembering Sisko

Sisko.  SISKO!  SISKO!!!!!!!  A commonly heard sound during Sisko's lifetime.  He came to us at somewhere around six months of age - we were told he was younger, but we were never sure about that.  We collected him from the local rescue centre on a November afternoon - well, we went to SEE him, but of course we came home with him.....

He started showing his style that very first afternoon when we got back to the hotel.  Guests had just vacated the sitting room where they had been enjoying tea, shortbread and clootie dumpling.  I went to the kitchen to get a tray to collect the cups and saucers and the goodies that hadn't been eaten.  When I got back to the sitting room, there were no goodies and I assumed a guest had come back to polish off what was left.  Then Sisko shot out from behind a sofa and out the door.

That was the first of many, many thefts.  We learnt not to let him near the guests as he would swipe their food from their plate or hands.  Or he would perform the "starvation" trick by sucking in his stomach and pleading with his brown eyes.  So many people fell for it.

He stole the carrots, the potatoes, the turnips (the aftermath of that was always smelly!), the bird food, the compost heap, the chicken shit garden fertiliser.  He even stole the ashes that had been scattered on our little island by a loving family.

He raided the bin so often that one day I pushed him in and told him if he was so fond of the bin's interior he could stay in there.  We rubbed chili oil around the bin to put him off - he licked it clean.  We put in horrible stuff on the top - he just rummaged down underneath it.  We were advised to put in small firecrackers, but he just thought they were fun.

His most memorable theft however was one night when we were staying at my parents' house.  I can't remember why we were so late, but we only got to the house at about 1.30am and my parents were asleep and so we tried our best to be quiet.  We left the dogs outside to go pee, and then called them in five minutes later.  Laren came in immediately, but there was no sign of Sisko.  Trying to call him in whispered tones is not easy, and I eventually had to go look for him.  I found him in the compost heap and extracted him with the sheer force of my annoyance. 

We had only just turned out the light when we heard the familiar "urgh urgh urgh urrrrrgghhh!" - the light went back on to find that Sisko had just thrown up the contents of the compost heap - right in front of the door, meaning I had to spread it around to get out of the bedroom.

Quietly (trying not to waken parents) I went back to the kitchen, got a bowl of hot water, disinfectant and a cloth, plus a bag to scoop the offering into.  I cleaned up the mess as best I could, then disposed of the dirty water, and the bag of yuck.

When I returned to bed we repeated the whole process several times until finally we put out the light properly at around 2.45am.

When we got up in the morning, my father grumped at me "you left the hall light on"  When I recounted the curious incident of the dog in the nighttime, he didn't believe me - and I couldn't believe they had slept through the whole thing.

Another memorable occasion was when he found some old cooking oil to "clean up".  A few hours later he came to me and placed his head in my lap, wagging his tail, and being generally rather sweet until, without warning, the cooking oil was deposited in my lap.  

One time when Sisko was staying with my parents, my dad made a sandwich, then went to answer the phone.  When he came back to get his sandwich, it wasn't there - he began to think he had imagined making it until he saw Sisko's expression.  Another sandwich that fell from the counter never made the floor.

He didn't just steal, however.  He also loved to pull all the drying laundry off the pulleys or off the line outside.  He loved to play the "You can't catch me" game.  The more frustrated we got, the more he enjoyed it, laughing at us as he ran.  He ripped apart the goatskin pouffe in our neighbour's house.  He loved to sleep in smelly fish boxes, or cardboard boxes.  He rolled in long-dead deer and sheep. He loved to bonk any girlie dog that visited.  He loved to bonk rucksacks, and even better to bonk rucksacks that were on someone's back.

He drove us nuts for most of his life, but he had some shining moments too.

When he first arrived, we still had Leroy who was then 16 years old.  One afternoon in the following spring, Sisko was barking in a way we hadn't heard before - when we looked out, we found that Leroy had fallen in the ditch and couldn't get out.  Sisko was standing by him, shouting for help, and was so pleased when we got there.  And apart from one occasion when he knocked Leroy over, he was always very mindful of where the old boy was and to be careful.

When Laren arrived at the age of six weeks, his first move was to try to bonk her, but a stern "no" stopped him - and he never tried it again.  He loved his little sister dearly and I have many pictures of them playing or curled up together.

One of their favourite games was with a huge cardboard box.  We would put one of them in it to fight their way out, and the other would fight their way in - there was never much left of a box at the end of it.

Or trying to get the ball from a wheelbarrow full of water.

If Laren was the household intellect .... Sisko was the court jester.  One time, Laren was helping us clean up after a decorating session.  We would fill a box with a handle with bits and pieces which she would then carry down the stairs and empty into a designated place, returning upstairs for more.  Sisko seemed to want to help, so we found a small tub for him and filled it with all the loose nuts and bolts etc.  He started off with enthusiasm, but got distracted half way down the stairs, emptying the tub of its contents!

He loved Laren so much, and I will never, ever forget his distress when we had to leave her at the vet that last time.

With the puppies that followed over the years, he was always like a grumpy but kindly grandfather.  He would grumble but never once lost his patience with them.

Rest in Peace old fella - I think it is only now that I am appreciating you for the dog you were.  I wish I could turn the clock back and do it all differently, or have had you from a puppy, but then you wouldn't have taught me all that you did.  Love you old man.

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