Scuttlebutt. Scout
Mitch McFarland
I recently had to make one of the most painful decisions of my life. We had to make the call to euthanize our beloved pet dog Scout. She was nearly at the end of her life expectancy and had several serious internal issues from which she was suffering. She stopped eating for five days before we made the call.
Of course, nearly all dog owners feel the same way, but I'll say it anyway: Scout was the best dog ever! She touched the lives of hundreds of people whom I'm sure will all be saddened to hear of her passing.
I didn't even want a dog. My wife Madeline had lost her huge male dog, Tahgi, a few years earlier and felt the time had come that she wanted another dog. I agreed, but with the condition that it be a female, be 10 lbs or less and that she be trained.
Madeline brought home the little pup that could be cupped in your hands with all those expectations in place. Forgetabodit! I instantly bonded with Scout and kept her close for the next 13 years. She went pretty much everywhere I did.
This is the dog that rode around my shoulders her entire life to the delight of everyone who met her. In her early years when I walked down a street in San Francisco with Scout on my shoulders, I would be met with a sea of cell phones.
Scout was gentle and accessible to all. She was even kind and non-threatening to toddlers and babies, even if they would smack her on the head in an attempt to pet her.
One of the things I will miss is all the smiles I would see on people's faces when they said hello to her. I would frequently take her into stores on my shoulders and when attending clerks would melt at the sight of her, I would put her on the counter for them to enjoy her company. She was so obviously friendly and happy.
She has traveled with us extensively from Portland Oregon to Portland Maine by way of New Orleans and Canada. She was a great traveler, adjusting to any situation. Encounters which involved a businesslike approach or potential friction would invariably turn into a friendly encounter if Scout was there. She stole hearts. I could have sold her a hundred times.
Through the course of her life she acquired several alternative names. Her gangster name was Pupa-G. Her Polynesian name was Pukaluku. Her Cajun name was Stickypatoo. Her Japanese name was Gigito.
In some ways I feel worse than when my parents died. Their memories, of course, will linger much longer than that of a pet and I miss them more than I eventually will Scout, yet her loss seemed more tragic. My parents I knew they were dying . They both knew it and had made peace with it. I had the opportunity tell them both that I loved them and appreciated what they had done for me. They lived full lives and were ready to go, especially my mother who was super brave until the end which made it much easier for me to let go.
Scout, on the other hand, seemed fine until five days before she passed. She went on a long walk with me and Madeline and was quite frisky. That evening she wasn't very hungry and went downhill from there. She had a bout of pancreatitis a few months ago, but with treatment she rallied back to normal. We didn't see this coming. It hit like a ton of bricks. Right now it still is.
Scout's passing has certainly increased my empathy for those who have lost loved ones. Whether animal or human when you love and care for something and it is intricately woven into your daily life there is a huge emotional and physical void left when they pass away. That void is eventually filled by other elements in your life, be it another pet or a new friend and companion. They say that time heals all wounds and that is not far from the truth, but that time can contain quite a bit of sorrow.
That's us right now.
