Two days ago I woke up my boys and told them that one of the dogs they have never lived without, died while they slept.
Scout picked us in December 1992, the year we were married, and to have him in our lives for nearly 13 years has been a phenominal ride.
Last Thursday our hunt for the illness that had been quickly weakening him ended with a trip to the cardiologist. A sonogram showed DilatedCardiomyopathy. While the prognosis is nearly never recovery, the vet was hopeful we could halt it's progress and put him on a series of 3 medications given at various intervals throughout the day and night.
We were thrilled when he responded well to the medications to help his failing heart. From several sleepless nights with him in the days previous, the days post diagnosis were wonderful. We watched him get up and walk himself outside again. He wanted food and water. He was alert and responsive and trying to coax Terry out of his salami slices just like always. They will remain the wonderful last memories of a truly extrodinary dog.
At 1am Monday morning he started barking and we went to him. He knew we would. His heart was racing and we knew. We both held him, told him we loved him and that it was ok to go and he did. His heart just simply stopped. To be there with him, told hold him as he slipped away was a gift.
Scout was my teacher. He was there when I learned about his breed and about showing. He endured grooming practice and early morning ring times. He put up with me as I made mistakes as an obedience novice, and he spent many a time in the ring making me both equally proud and humble. He taught me how to laugh at myself, to be a good dog mom, and a good kid mom...now he's teaching me how to let go.
Andrew told me it was ok, that we always told him that dogs know when it's time for them to go, but that he'll miss him a lot.
I will to.
Rest well Moose Dog. We love you.
Blossom Hill Dunkin' Blue, CDX
"Scout"
November 23, 1992 - October 10, 2005
http://www.geocities.com/~duncanfamily/scout.html
