This was the first of the many adventures we went on. K-9 Cisco fell easily into the role of police dog; catching criminals wanted for kidnapping, armed robbery, aggravated assault and other crimes. He also helped search for lost children and elderly persons who had become disoriented. He had a unique style of tracking—he RAN! This quickly led me to coin the phrase “Fading Light Syndrome”, which was caused when Cisco left our back-up officers way behind as their flashlights slowly went out of sight.
Cisco’s age and an injury to his leg began to limit his abilities but never his determination. He retired from active police work but still served as an ambassador to the police dog community. In August 2000, I was recommended for the Police Achievement Medal based on outstanding service to the Gwinnett K-9 Unit, to which I credit Cisco. After I took a position with Lawrenceville Police, Cisco continued to help educate countless members of our community about the value of a police dog. He gave thousands of puppy kisses to local children. He made regular appearances for civic and church groups. K-9 Cisco went on to help educate over 1000 psychology students at the Georgia Perimeter College in the various learning theories. He was proof that positive reinforcement from using a kind hand, food, or his prized toy ‘kong’ brought great training success. The dogs that followed in Cisco’s footsteps greatly benefited from our experience together. He occasionally had his photo in the newspapers, almost always with children in his presence.
Over the years, my wife Maura, our kids and I had a wonderful time with Cisco. He was family—living in the house, vacationing with us, helping raise our children and protecting the family while I was at work. As he grew older, our public appearances started to decline. He was in his golden years and spent more and more time sleeping. In order to keep his spirits up, I took him out occasionally for practice tracks or to let him find decoys hiding in buildings, but I noticed that he tired quickly and took a long time to recover.
In 2003, K-9 Bojar was on sick leave, so I called upon Cisco once again to work the streets. For a few shifts my old man rode shotgun and we loved every minute of it! On one night an officer confronted two vandals who fled on foot. Within minutes I was on scene and had Cisco harnessed. He followed the scent of the two suspects that had fled, and that night my heart pounded as I once again had the pleasure of following behind Cisco as he located the bad guys. It would be Cisco’s last call as a police dog, but he continued to entertain audiences of all ages at public demonstrations.
In May of this year, Cisco’s health started to decline. We had to help him up the stairs and catch him as he came down. Weeks later he needed help just to walk. In his last few days, he could not stand on his own. As I helped him outside, I saw, for the first time in my life, a look of fear in his piercing brown eyes. I knew it must be devastating for a dog who was once so strong, powerful, and fearless to now be scared. I had long ago made a promise to us both that I would never let that happen. Cisco’s time was coming to an end.
On Friday, June 10th, 2005 I contacted Officer Dave Russell and asked him to take us to the vet’s office. I had the heart-breaking task of telling my kids that Cisco would not be coming home; that the vet was going to give him some medicine to help him sleep and when he woke up he would be in Heaven. It was only fitting that I put on my uniform along with a t-shirt with his name and the Gwinnett County logo on it. The trip was short and Cisco rested until we got into Lawrenceville. I helped him up and supported him as he looked out the window and watched the cars go past. Dave and I both chuckled as he barked at a person walking from his car. Sgt. Spanky Davis, Officers Rick and Denise Garner, and Officer John Surowiec met Dave and I as we got to the animal clinic. They were there with me as I held my dear partner in my arms as he took his last breath. With a kiss on the muzzle, a pat on the head and the words “I love you, Old Dog”, my Cisco was off to Doggy Heaven.
Thank you for the grand adventure Cisco.
And until we meet again, may you always run fast, bite hard, and fear nothing.
Officer Emory Griffith