This being is all I can think about today.
It’s been seven years. Seven years ago today we said goodbye to our girl.
For some reason, it’s hitting me especially hard this year. I miss this magical, light-filled, funny girl. I miss her so much. I can still feel her coat. I can smell her scent. It’s as vivid today as it was when she was with us.
I don’t know what else to say today. I would give anything to have her here with us right now. To have another day with her. I have loved many dogs in my life and each and every one of them was special and beloved.
Scoutie was with us the longest. She was our magic girl.
Please don’t say that we need another dog. We will do that when the time is right. And we will know when that is. It will be clear.
Today, I both mourn and celebrate our girl and tell her how much I will always love her.
Stay safe.
Happy Tuesday.
Scoutie must have been a special presence in your life…..and to give that feeling to you she had to feel the same towards you. Pets have such a unique place in our hearts… I’ll be thinking of you today…
Thank you, Barrie.
Stay safe.
Prayers
Thank you, Brenda.
Stay safe.
You always spoke about her many exceptional qualities, including her intelligence and beauty. She was much loved as well as loving. We wish they could stay longer with us, don’t we?
Thank you, Linda.
Stay safe.
Claudia, I’m always blown away by the intensity of those feelings, no matter how long they’ve been gone. You describe it perfectly; the touch, the smell, the longing. What a lovely picture. You’re both in my heart today. Take care.
Thank you, Verna.
How painful it is to miss a loved one. I, too, miss my darling ones who brought so much joy.
Take Care,
Kaye
Thank you, Kaye.
Stay safe
Oh, lovely Scoutie, you were and are so loved. (And thank you for introducing me to your mom!)
Thank you, Shanna.
Stay safe.
I’m not surprised you are feeling her loss all the more today. It’s been a month/few weeks of loss and worry for you and that’s the time we need our pet therapists the most, just to pet their soft fur, love them, and take us out of our sadness. Sending love.
Yes, I miss the comfort I got from my babies.
Stay safe, Jeanie.
The loss of an animal is so hard. I’ve never been a huge pet person, even though we have always had cats and dogs. (because of the kids) But I know people that just adore their animals. So sorry for your sadness.
Thank you, Darlene.
Stay safe.
prayers for you and don to have peace of mind and peace of heart, that every day and especially this day is filled with sweet memories that make you smile and knowledge of the happy reunions to come.
xo,
kathy
Thank you, Kathy.
Stay safe.
Lovely dog – the price of love can be pain, especially with animal companions. I hope things get into better balance for you soon.
Ceci
Thank you, Ceci.
Stay safe.
Welcome all the memories, whether they bring feelings of happiness or sadness. Scoutie was is and always will be a part of you.
Thank you, Wendy.
Stay safe.
I feel for you, Claudia (and Don). I remember Scout very well; you featured her on this blog a lot and we all loved her. To me, she was always the beautiful Snow Princess. I’m so sorry you had to lose her; I wish we could have our pets longer than we’re given.
A hint of the bittersweet here too; because, a year ago right about now, we lost our own shepherd/retriever mix. I miss her a lot. I’ve been thinking of her so much in this past week. She was a lean gal, about fifty lbs; elegant. The funny things you think of, but I would stand over-behind her and just love how the back of her fuzzy-soft head looked between her erect ears which had black tips. She was the best-behaved dog we ever had; never trained; just perfect ‘out the gate’ from the time she was nine weeks old; a throwaway stray, left abandoned like garbage from some monster-person passerby, deliberate and cruel action, the puppy barely weaned, in a vacant yard, on a very-hot summer day, no food or water. We had her for over twelve years and she was the gold at the end of the rainbow; our treasure.
Then we too-soon (my husband’s doing; not my druthers) replaced her (wrong wording; she could never be replaced) with this hefty, wild, untamed, high-energy, strong, male, young, initially-aggressive ‘rescue’ dog who, after recent DNA testing, is 100 percent Australian Shepherd as far back to his great-great grandparents (to which, beyond that generation, he has a minor blend [less than ten percent] of Lassie-style collie but that’s all). I don’t care about this; I’ve never been ‘into’ purebred dogs. It’s just that it’s interesting, and the DNA results provided important medical info in terms of his sensitivities to certain drugs which we are to stay away from for him (this was the most valuable part of the testing).
He’s a handful and I had his stuff boxed up, ready to return him to the shelter I don’t know how many times in the first months of fostering over the past year. I’ve lost track of how many times my husband and I got bit, enough to draw blood. But we did decide to adopt him and it’s been a ride, what can I say. Well, what I can say is that the ride has been ultimately very rewarding.
He’s still in so many ways unmanageable and a hassle (he can’t help his size, for one thing), but we’re so in love with him now that we accept him for what he is and probably always will be; for instance, we doubt we’ll ever be able to totally ‘save’ him from the anxiety/panic which apparently set in during his time lost in the world (or abandoned), in and out of foster homes and then in the shelter, at least the one we know of, for five months of his second year of life. He’s come a long, long way and has endearing personality traits. He also can’t help what happened to him in his former life; what we do is go forward, together, as a little family.
Of course what helps him is that he’s a visually-beautiful animal and he knows it; people ‘ooh and aahh’ over him. A Red Merle, long-haired, chocolate-patterned Aussie, wavy double coat, amber eyes. (Like the coloring of a palomino pony.) His looks help him get away with what’s all-too-often ROWDY behavior! The DNA testing nailed him down to a ‘t’ even to his coat and eyes.
This big boy is so not the right breed for two old(er) people like us; but, for some reason, it was supposed to happen, to make us a match. What’s really noteworthy too is that we were told to never expect him to be too affectionate; rather, the breed can be aloof. What a joke. He cuddles at every opportunity. He’s hooked into a seatbelt in the backseat of the car (we have to take him with us wherever we go, often not convenient) but still manages to strain forward enough to lay his head on my shoulder or the back of my neck. I’m tell’in ya, when I’m trying to relax on the sofa and I’ve got 65 pounds of dog laying on top of me, it’s not comfortable; but he’s in such a state of bliss from the petting and cuddling that I dare not move, because I’ll think of all the times he didn’t have that human connection and how much it obviously means to him.
But the most gratifying thing is to see him offleash on a vacant beach here in Southern California, when he can run as hard and fast as he can muster, not confined to his pen at the shelter as he had been for too long. He knows how far to go, like how deep in the waves at shore; he likes to lay down in the water and let it swirl around him. He obeys us; never runs away; always seems delighted to return. We can’t give him the life of his genetics, which would be to run across fields, meadows and ranchland or in the mountains, jumping streams and herding his cows and sheep, doing his job; but we try to do these other things as often as we can, and my husband walks him five miles every day without missing a beat. It’s good for both of them!
Am I being insensitive of talking of my ‘new’ dog when you’re talking of losing yours, Claudia? Should I print this? I would never want to add to your hurt. I want you to know, though, I listened to you. You have a bigger part than you know, of getting me thru this time with this dog of which I speak. You knew of Aussie Sheps; you told me over these past many months to hang in there and not give up with ours. You’ve helped a lot of dogs, Claudia. Scoutie knew how devoted you were to her. She lives on in your heart and brain. No one can take that away from you, ever. She is of your soul. It’s all beautiful. I’m glad you can embrace that; and it’s wonderful no matter if canine, feline, equine, human, etc, To Be Loved and Remembered.
From one dog lover to another, I get it. Thinking of you today, Claudia. Sorry for the long comment, but I feel myself choking up for you and Don today.
“what we do is go forward, together, as a little family” …
… beautiful, vicki. and happily true. :)
thanks for sharing. happy, safe tuesday and every day to you three.
kathy
I’m so glad the new dog has won your hearts, Vicki. We did the same thing with Scout and Winston – both herding dogs – we took them to the beach or the dog park and let them run like crazy. You and your husband did the right thing. And your baby won your hearts. It brings tears to my eyes to think this dog who was abandoned now has a home and know what love feels like.
xoxo
Thank you, Vicki.
Stay safe.
Find peace, Claudia, in your memories of Scout. You and Don gave her a beautiful life filled with love. Hugs, Elaine
Thank you, Elaine.
Stay safe.
OK . . . just going say it . . . when someone has said to me after the loss of a beloved cat or dog “are you going to get another,” I want to shoot them between the eyes. Not really, of course, but you know what I mean . . . I’m so sorry about the loss of your husband . . . are you going to get another? So sorry about the loss of your child . . . are you pregnant yet? Non-animal lovers will not understand, but it really is that insensitive.
It is. I had people to tell me to get another dog right after we lost Scout and our other dog, Riley. As if they were sweaters that had worn out and could be immediately replaced. But I also had comments from so many readers who completely understood. I firmly believe that everyone has to do what they feel is right. I can’t replace my dogs that quickly. I’m just not made that way. And Scout was so special, so rare – we always called her our ‘magic’ dog – that we find it hard to consider getting another dog. Though we do think about it. Whatever we do, if we adopt, we’ll probably go for an older rescue dog.
Thanks, Chris. You are always refreshingly honest and I appreciate that.
Stay safe.
We had a cat named Scout! Lost her a year ago end of last month. Miss her every day!
I’m sorry for your loss, Cheryl. I know how hard it is. xoxo
Stay safe.
Yesterday would have our heart dog’s seventeenth birthday. We were blessed for an unbelievable sixteen years. No matter how long or short you’ve lived with your four-legged friend, losing them is like losing a piece of your heart. But loving them is worth it. It sounds like this anniversary brought back many Scoutie memories to comfort you.
Yes, Scout lived to be 17, as well.
Thank you, Roxie.
Stay safe.
I doubt that I will ever “adopt” another animal. There are practical as well as emotional reasons. I understand the ache in your heart for Scout. For that reason, I am reluctant to go thru it again. Playing defense now….just too much loss.
Thanks for sharing your lovely memory of Scout.
Thank you, Maria.
Stay safe.
My special dog had a heart defect and died much too young. I swore I would never form that close relationship with another animal. It was too painful to lose her.
But my husband still had his dog, a Great Dane, lab mix, but she wasn’t mine. When she died we got a rescued dog that was due to be destroyed the next day and she was so smart and well-trained That I loved her but never saw her as mine either. When she was put down a couple of years ago, I said, “no more”. But as I saw my almost eighty year old husband gain weight from his lack of dog-walking exercise,I told him to get another.
He looked online at every dog in every shelter and one day showed me a photo of a very fat black lab that he wanted to “look at”. So we went to the shelter and my husband knew this was the dog he wanted. I would never have chosen this dog!!! She was fat and sleepy (much like us!), but it was his choice after all. So we came home with LILO, who was found abandoned in a sulphur mine along with her son, Stitch. She had no fur and was skin snd bones. She had been in the shelter for 6 months and no one seemed to want her. I wasn’t real thrilled about bringing her home, but we did.
We’ve had this very silly dog for a year now. I have never known such a funny, loving animal. She l loves people, dogs, cats, and just life in general !
A senior dog is great for senior people like us. Honestly, not raising s dog from a puppy makes one realize that the relationship is temporary but still beautiful.
I hope you fall in love one day with another friend and make that leap of faith to bring her home!
Thank you for your lovely story, Suzanne.
Stay safe.