My Scooter Man

Scooter was our first baby. We went to the pound (the best dogs are pound dogs) just to look around. We took a walk down the hallway of cages. Dogs of all shapes and sizes were going nuts. Barking, howling, jumping, and throwing themselves at the cage. We walked past a cage which held a small black dog. He wasn't barking. He was sitting still. He saw us and laid his ears back. I bent down and coaxed him over. He timidly approached us and licked my fingers through the cage. We asked to play with him for a little while and found out that he was on day 2 of his 3 day stay. (they only keep dogs for 3 days, then euthanized them if they're not adopted). We adopted him right then.

He was skittish - so we called him Scooter. He was afraid of Jim, and all men. We soon theorized that he had been either the recipient or observer of abuse. Jim came home one day and went in the room to change out of his work clothes. Scooter walked in just as Jim was taking off his belt. The poor little guy ran out and hid behind a chair for hours.

When Hannah came along, he loved her too. He tolerated all her poking and pulling, and I would often find them like this:

He was so protective of the kids. When Hannah was born and we had lots of visitors. He would discreetly position himself between the visitor and the baby. If the visitor got up and moved around, Scooter would get up and reposition as well. He slept under her crib. Up until a few weeks ago, when he could no longer go up the stairs, every night he slept underneath Emma's crib.

He loved to join the kids in the street riding bikes and playing. Near the end, he couldn't join them, but he loved to lay outside and watch them go up and down the street.

I keep looking at the spots in the house where he would always be. By the stairs, under the desk. And he's not there. He's not here anymore.

People say "he's just a dog". He was much more than that to us. He was a comforter and protector, a friend and loyal companion. He is part of our family and we love him. We'll miss you so much, Scooter. There'll never be another dog like you.