Scout was a tough customer. He showed up with a hernia the size of a grapefruit, mangy and unfixed. He bit me damn near every day for the first year I had him. So much so that after a year I called the rescue and said I need to bring him back. Well...you’ve been telling us he bites, we’ll take him back, we can’t adopt him, so we will put him down.
And so an 8 year saga began. He traveled to CO with us but when it hailed on his first hike he decided hiking was not for him. So..he got carried:
He liked to travel and he liked to walk. But mostly he liked to eat. And god help you if you walked between him and his bowl. I got him as a companion to my Charlie (the best dog ever). I was concerned about his aggressive behavior but he proved to be a good companion
When Charlie became old and frail I saw Scout moving on his bed, I thought “this is it for you” and I peeked around the corner ready to disrupt his evil plan of domination. But this is what I saw:
He wasn’t trying to steal Charlie’s bed. He was there to console him. With that he won my heart.
And after Charlie died Scout went and laid on his grave:
Before that he was just my charge. After witnessing these acts of canine kindness and devotion he had my loyalty.
I felt compelled to provide him a new companion:
They made fast friends.
When Scout couldn’t walk, I did everything I could: acupuncture; laser; pills.
When he went blind I made sure not to move anything and to carry him when he needed.
I got lucky with Charlie, he expired in bed. I made a rule after Charlie, if the dog won’t eat...it’s time. But damned if Scout never did stop enjoying food. With Scout I just couldn’t watch him fall over trying to relieve himself anymore. I couldn’t risk him having some calamity late at night and regretting I hadn’t done it sooner. Different dog, different criteria.
I had to make the decision. I never did this before. It was hard. I know, just a dog, so much suffering in the world. But it was hard.
Miss ‘ya buddy.