Scout Ussery 9.8.03-9.18.11

This post is much like the First Day of Kindergarten post. 

I've delayed it's existence because it would feel real.

Our sweet, hairy, best friend, Scout, passed away on September 18th. 

We still don't believe it sometimes.

Like when we drive up to the house and his strange pink nose isn't smashed in the window waiting for us to come inside.

Or when we drop food on the floor and he's not there to be our vacuum.

As everyone who has a dog that they love says...Scout really was the best dog. 

Really really.

He was kind.  And smelly.  And beautiful despite our brushing negligence.

He looked like he was always smiling. 

He was so loved, and so taken care of by Jack.

That's why there are more pictures of Jack on this post.  (I typically try to even out the kid pics when it comes to blogging because I don't want them looking back on these one day and counting.)

Jack and Scout were BFFs.  

Except for the Christmas Incident of 2010 where Scout had to "find a new home" for a week while Jack decided that it was not cool to be rough with his canine companion. 

(Adult Jack, if you're reading this, hopefully you are smart and you now know that quotations used for these purposes are for lying.  So, we're sorry.  Scout never went to that fun farm with the fun family of children who didn't stab him with plastic forks.  He stayed with Jennie 2 miles down the road.  Remind me to tell you about "Santa", too.)

This is the fake goodbye picture we took before Scout "left us" to go to the fun farm with the fun family.

We learned that Scout was very forgiving.

And that Jack would never play rough again.

You never realize how much a part of your life your pets are until they're gone.  Probably like most things, I guess.  

The majority of our Scout pictures are like this one below:

Bad pictures.  But with Scout in the background.  He was a second fiddle of sorts.  Always there.  Just behind the scenes.  

But still a very important part.

Time is turning the tears into fond memories for sure. 

But we still miss Scout.

Every day.

Okay, so what happened to him?

I'll include this for those of you who are the type that will hear a crazy/sad/horrible story and will try to strategically ask questions about it that make it seem like you're interested for that person's sake, but you're really just getting down to the bottom line:  How likely is it that the crazy/sad/horrible thing could happen to me/my family member/loved one?  I get that.

The short of it:  We don't know.  Scout was woken up by a common household noise (a trash can sliding out from under the kitchen sink) on that fateful day.  Like normal, Scout clumsily and goofily went from sound sleeping to jumping up to his feet.  Or so we think.  I was in the bed.  John was in the kitchen.  Scout was at the foot of the bed on the floor.  We heard a bunch of rumbling around where Scout was and heard him hit our entertainment center.  John then discovered that Scout had peed on the floor.  We kind of laughed it off to his goofiness.  After running outside to finish his business, he laid down in the "down" position, head upright, looking straight ahead.  He never responded to us again.  Wouldn't look at us or wag his tail.  Nothing. After several calls to the vet, debating over a concussion or a seizure, they suggested just to wait it out as his heart rate and breathing were fine.  But after a few hours his breathing suddenly changed and we took him in.  The doctor told John he wasn't sure what had happened, but that it was clear Scout was trying to die.  And about 5 minutes later, he did exactly that.  Peacefully.  No pain.  The doc said perhaps he had a heart condition...stroke...massive seizure.  Doesn't really matter.  Knowing won't bring him back.

John was with him, but the boys and I wanted to see him so I took them in.  We were in pajamas.  I was huge preggo, crying.  We were a sight to behold.  When we left, Jack and I were very emotional and were crying our eyes out.  Finn, the steadfast 4 year old that he is, was trying his best to muster up some sadness in his carseat.  "Oh, Scout....ahhh...so sad...yep...we'll miss you....waaaahhh...."(fake all the way).  I told him it was okay if he wasn't sad right then, and that he didn't have to fake it.  Without skipping a beat he asks..."Okay, then. Can we go to Sonic?"  

Grief has it's various forms:)  Some wail.  Some want a vanilla coke.  

Some want to get another gold retriever to love on.  Maybe that'll be a post for 2012!

Thank you for all of the phone calls and cards and kind words about our beloved pup.  We know that he was loved by many.