|Scott Bernard Watson
Scottie came into our lives one year, two months and eleven days ago. He was a scruffy old man. The animal rescue we got him from said they thought he was ten or eleven years old; they didn’t know for sure.
He had been a stud at a Puppy Mill, caged in an outdoor dog run for all of his life. They told us he had a few problems; he was old and he had no front top teeth (he had never been to the vet or had his teeth cleaned). He was house broken, although he still hiked his leg on occasion.
We took Quincy, the resident Chihuahua, to meet him in the schoolyard across the street, so as to ward off any territorial feelings. As we approached the two of them sniffed each other and ran off to play, as if they were long lost brothers meeting once again. Scottie acted as if he was already 'Home.'
Scottie walked into the house and into our hearts like an old friend. He quickly took to the house and claimed it as his own. He broke the no dogs on the furniture rule so often that we gave up and gave him an ottoman to call his own. He seemed to know that it was his. We spoiled him rotten. For an outdoor dog he took to his own bed and raised food and water dish like a duck to water!
He had a funny habit of barking at any doorbell, including the ones he heard on TV. He was so good at it that he soon solicited Quincy, who never barked at a doorbell on TV in his life, to join in. He was a smart dog. He would spy Quincy in a favored spot and engage him in a game of 'chase'. Quincy would run around and around, Scottie would circle back and claim the spot for himself.
He was a well-behaved and mischievous dog. Despite his rough upbringing the only thing he was afraid of was thunderstorms. At the first sign of a pending storm he would get as close to you as possible and cling for dear life. Scottie was a gentle dog, he would lightly jump onto your lap, look at you with his soft sable eyes and ever so lightly lick your hand. I came to believe that it was his way of saying thank you for taking such good care of me. The thanks should have gone to him, for the unconditional love he showered on us.
We learned that Scottie had a very bad heart murmur in July. His heart was wearing out; there was nothing we could do. He had his good days and he had some bad ones but he was well loved to the end. Scott had the biggest, sweetest heart of any dog I know.
Scottie crossed over to the Rainbow Bridge this morning. Our hearts are heavy, but his is now light.
© Copyright 2008 JC English (UN: joanm at Writing.Com).
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