Scout

This week, we said good-bye to Scout. He was 13 1/2 years old. That's 94 in human years. 

We got Scout when we were 27 years old. He's been with us through all of it-- except those first few years in Alaska. In fact, when we rented our house in Missouri, sight unseen, from Alaska in the spring of 2013, we put down that we had a dog on the application, specifically because we were looking for pet-friendly rentals. Our plan was to get a dog that summer. I had told my coworker in Alaska our intentions and she had gotten me a little statue of a dog from my class as a going away present. 

Scout was born at the end of May, we bought him in June, and picked him up July 7th just outside of Louisville, Kentucky. All of this is documented in tedious detail on this blog. In fact, Scout was our world, the star of the show and he benefited greatly from having DINK parents (double-income, no kids). He was living the life. 

Then, did Jane Austen say "it is not good for a dog to be alone"? She said something like that, right? "A dog is in want of another dog"? Close enough.

Scott was insistent we get Scout a friend. I mean, insistent. So insistent that he bought another puppy, he drove to Minnesota to pick him up, and he trained him all by himself for those first few weeks. I knew Scout needed a friend but we were in the middle of a PCS to Colorado and I was trying to wrap up a school year in Missouri and Scott was trying to finish a masters' degree that April. Still another puppy it was.

And so we had ScoutandJett. It was always ScoutandJett. I don't even know that they liked each other that much to tell you the truth. They were born in the same calendar year, different breeds, different breeders, different genetics. But they were true siblings when it came to always being together; there was also a rivalry for Scott's attention that became legendary and Jealous Jett was coined. 

But Scout's personality was his own. He was "his own dog". He did what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it. He did not seek approval or pettings. He wanted to run, hunt, and be alone if he felt like being alone. If he decided he didn't like the food, Scott would buy a new type of dog food. If he didn't want to be in a crate, the run of the house it was. He repeatedly ran off in Colorado, never leaving the property, but always willing to endure the shock of the collar until he got out of its range. Chasing the scent and the bird was more important. 

Scout had a knack for getting cacti in his paws. It was a weird thing I don't think about much anymore, but Jett would come back from our run-rounds thorn-free, and Scout would be limping along. I took to carrying tweezers and gardening gloves with me on walks. I cannot tell you how many times I pulled a cactus chunk out of Scout and it went into my own hand...cacti are weird and you just have to experience it to understand. 

On the same run-rounds, Scout would leap over the rattlesnakes, while Jett would freeze to warn me if one was in the path. 

Scout and Jett loved to dig in the sand and Scott always said they'd had enough of me putting limitations on them --don't eat this, don't eat that, don't run here, don't jump there-- and were digging a hole for me to fall into. It was always three against one in our family. 

This is also where Scout earned the nickname Snooty. He was par-tic-u-lar. From his food, to his bed, to his refusing to listen to me; he gave a lot of hmmmphs and deep sighs in my direction. He never really slept with us, always preferring the couch or the floor somewhere. Even during deployments, Jett would sleep with me, but I'd have to get up and look for Scout in the morning. 

I don't know that Scout ever really cared about anything the way he cared about Scott. He like imprinted on him or something and that was that. Even though I was the one who cared for him through all the deployments, Scott insisted it was because I didn't hunt. That was probably it. He would try to sleep in the truck the night before if he knew Scott was leaving early in the morning. 

He was a dog with more of a person-like aura about him. It was very clear to us that while Jett was a good and loyal dog, Scout was something different. He demanded a different level of care and attention ("spoiled" is what they call it, I believe). The one and only time we boarded them so we could go on a vacation, Jett started coughing when we returned home. Scott said "let's just wait and see". As soon as Scout gave a cough, off to the emergency vet it was--$300 later, they both had kennel cough. 

To chronicle Scout's 13 year life in this post would almost be pointless; he's all over this blog. 

I realized this week that it's the end of an era now. We haven't had just one dog since the spring of 2014. We love Maverick dearly, but Maverick is very much our "family dog". We got him because we wanted to make sure the kids grew up with a dog. Scout and Jett were very much Our Dogs. They were exclusively mine for so many long months while Scott was away, and we often watched dogs for single soldiers who worked with Scott. I told Scott often that my guarantee that he had to keep me around was because he needed someone to care for the dogs when he deployed or worked 12+ hour days. When we filled out the AKC paperwork for Scout, Scott put himself down as the owner and signed it. When Jett's paperwork came in the mail, Scott was deployed, so I signed it. Technically, I owned Jett and he owned Scout if it came down to a court battle ha ha. 

We had an entire life before dogs (Alaska). Then we had an entire, very full life, with dogs (Missouri, Colorado). Then we had Wells and had an entire life (Wyoming, Pennsylvania, Kansas, Missouri). Then we had Sutton and had an entire life (Missouri). Then we lost Jett and things started to feel different. 

Wells and Sutton will grow up with Maverick but Jett and Scout lived an entire life before our kids came along. They had a very good life.