A week ago today, we helped our basset hound, Cici, cross the rainbow bridge. Not an easy decision in any way, shape, or form but she is at peace and not hurting.

Cici gave us 15 of her 16 years of life, and boy, did she ever! It was the best Craigslist ad we answered. She joined our family spring break of 2011.

Cici got to spend her days exploring our 11 acres and beyond. I say beyond because in true hound dog fashion, when the nose is turned on, the ears are off. She took it upon herself to go on self-guided field trips to the neighbor’s fields.

Cici went on camping trips with us and rode in the gator. When she saw the pickup getting loaded up, she was right by it, waiting to be next. She loved car rides.

She chased the kids around the yard, then she’d chase Buddy (her “brother”) around to get him to play.

She loved chasing squirrels and rabbits.

She made herself a lap dog, inside or outside.

When the sun was out, you could find her laying in the yard or on the deck soaking up every bit of sun she could, didn’t matter how hot it was outside.

She sniffed out her rawhide bone under the Christmas tree and was so proud, and protective, of it.

As she got older, she slowed down but did not stop. She still explored the yard, front pasture, and barn area, even to her last day.

She was the matriarch of the pack. She was the one lurking around the corner to see if the other dogs had abandoned their food dish. Then move in for the clean-up detail.

The last couple of years, she taught me more about patience and empathy. She needed help going up and down the steps to the house. Her back legs didn’t have the strength, so we helped her. So, translate that to middle-of-the-night trips. This is when the patience really had to kick in. I didn’t know what sleeping through the night was like anymore. Do I miss the midnight rendezvous? No. What I do miss is snack time.

I started doling out treats in the evening, started it about a year ago. It became a quick habit for Cici that that was the one thing she did not forget about. We joked about doggy-mentia as she seemed to forget what she was doing sometimes – but not snack time.

After they were fed their dinner, she’d come in the house, lay on her bed for a short time…maybe. Otherwise, she’d look for me, stare at me, with her ears perked up.  Every move toward the direction of the snacks, she was following and if I didn't follow her timeline, she’d bark – which meant “Now! I want my snack now!”

I miss those glazed-over eyes looking up at me, waiting for her snack.

She was a true gem full of personality built on short legs.