Love That Dog

It's been a long few weeks here at the Nakada-Gantts. First, Scout bit Kiara. It was unprovoked. It was not the first time Scout bit someone we love. Kiara's little ear was cut up, but she's healed fine, and after a few uncertain weeks, a rescue, Lab and Friends, has taken Scout to retrain her and place her in a new home.

Puppy Scout

Scout had been with us for six years and she was always our unpredictable, slightly crazy dog, but we loved her. Now, in our Scoutless home, David and I struggle with the loss.

There are so many things I already miss: her enthusiastic greeting at the front door, the click of her paw-nails on the hardwoods, the shake of her collar when she stood up, her Scoutness curled up under the dining room table, warming my feet, her cold nose asking for some love, or to get up and take her out.

Born swimmer...

I miss her drinking at her bowl as if she would never drink again, her high-fives, her biting that forever-itchy-spot on her butt, the southern and British accents Scout barked in, and the Scout song with no resolution.

I miss her sleeping beside the bed and outside Kiara's door.

I miss those soft, soft ears and her sideways look when you asked her a question.

I miss her playing fetch forever, her tennis ball obsession, and walking through the neighborhood with her every day.

Scout reading...

Tomorrow we're getting our house cleaned and although I'm sure traces of Scout hair will stick around for a while, eventually most physical traces of her will fade away. I know the house won't always feel so empty when we come home, and my eyes won't always fill with the tears when I think of her. But right now that place in my heart reserved for the love of a dog is so empty I can't quite catch my breath.

So, I hope you will all think of your dogs tonight, the ones you love and have loved. Remember them, or give them a nice long scratch on the back, or behind the ears like Scout loved, because our dogs really do hold a special place in our lives, and you know you love that dog.