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A Note From Scout

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This was written and posted on Facebook by a long-time friend, Michael Furtman, after his other Lab, Bella, was put down. Having lost two Labs over the past decade, I know the feeling that comes with such losses. This reminded me and made me cry again. 😢

P.S. - The spelling & grammar are intentionally written as they appear. After all it's a dog writing it.  😉

 
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Michael Furtman
20h

SCOUT REPORT #71

Hi. My name is Scout.

I’m a good dog.

A sad dog.

And a confused dog.

See, this is me on Bella’s dog bed with her collar. I can smell her on both. Buts I cant find her nowhere, and I’ve looked all over the house.

So I’m sad. I want my big sister! Even on the day Pops drove up to get me from my breeders, Bella was there. She sorta got the final word if I was to ride in her truck. And be her stoodint. In almost my whole life I've never been without Bella!

At first I thought maybe she tookeded a trip or something. But Pops said she got sick and died and wouldn't be back. I didn't believe him. When he said it was time for a walk, I raced downstairs to get Bella. That's my job. But she weren't there.

Then today pops and mom was all blubbery. Crying lots. Every time I licked pops face it was all salty. I got fed by myself. I got walked by myself. Pops went looking for critters to pitcher, and I was alone with him. That's never happened. Bella took the left window and I took the right, helping him.

So I think pops was telling the truth. Bella isn't here no more and won't be. I remember that me and her talked lots. About her getting old. About pops getting old. She didnt say nothing about herself leaving, but she did say lots about how it was my job now to take care of pops, to find critters to pitcher, to fetch critters during the hunt, to keep him from lonlinessism.

"Squirt," she said (she always called me that), "you have to promise me that you'll take care of dad. He pretends he's tough, and in some ways, he really is. But not his heart. His heart is easily bruised. I don't want it broken. So when your time comes, promise me you'll love him like I do. If you do, he'll be the best dad ever, and you'll do things few dogs will ever get to do. And you'll be loved more than you can imagine.

And if you DON'T take care of dad, I'll come back somehow. And you won't like it."

Course I thoughts that was long ways off. Sure, she was gray. And she had tough times going up stairs. But she was my big sister, and she was always with me. And we ate deer turds together. We hunted grouse and peasants together (she couldn't hunt ducks no more). And we swum. And I kissed her face every time I saw it -- and she liked it. But pretended not.

Bella, wherever you've gone, I want you to know that I love you. That mom and pops are missing you and cry at the very thought of you. I've not cried. Dogs don't. But I miss you. I miss you. I can feel you here with me.

Big sister, thank you. Thank you for all you taught me. I'll do my best to keep pops from lonlinessism, I promise.

I don't know who will keep me from it, though.

I guess it's my time. Bella, I guess you gave me all that could be asked for. I guess that's why it was your time to be peaceful-like. I guess you were done.

I guess it's good. I guess it's bad. I guess I'm confused.

But this isn't a guess. You loved me. You loved pops and mom. And we allz loved you. And we allz miss you.

Come to me in my dreams big sister.

I will be waiting for you.

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This is Sasha, a silver Lab that we adopted at 5 from the AZ Labrador and Giant Breed rescue group. She died suddenly in the middle of the night after going into a room that she rarely entered. It was the last place I checked after 15 mins. of trying find her outside or in the other rooms. She was 10.

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And this is Hershey. We had him as a foster "child" for two weeks, and even though my wife said no more dogs after Sasha died, she couldn't resist Hershey's great temperament. He was without a doubt, the mildest mannered and smartest dog we've ever owned. He was also 5 when we officially adopted him from the same group. His hearing and eyesight started to deteriorate badly, and then his left hip went bonkers one day. He couldn't even get up. We took him to the Humane Society that day and had him put down. He was 11. 

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I read the first 10 words and had to stop.....

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This is my best freind. Annie . She is a Blue queensland heeler. Without her my life would be very empty. If You want to know unconditional Love. Get a dog.

EFFECTS.jpg

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2 hours ago, GreyGhost85 said:

I read the first 10 words and had to stop.....

It was a tough one to get through.  My black labbie is 10 now.  All gray around the muzzle, eyes gettin blue, noticeably slowing down and is now more content to bark at her younger sister while she chases the frisbee rather than do any fetching herself.

that struck a little close to home. 

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53 minutes ago, AZkiller said:

Dogs can't write

The heck they can’t they can tell you everything with their eyes, ears and movements. All you dog loving guys and gals know exactly what I’m saying.

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Putting my yellow down was very difficult. He had cancer, wasn't going to get better, and my then wife and I made the decision to put him down before he took a turn for the worse. Having to give the dog a sedative before the lethal needle is gut wrenching. Watching a dog with a wagging tail be put down is horrible. 

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1 hour ago, firstcoueswas80 said:

Putting my yellow down was very difficult. He had cancer, wasn't going to get better, and my then wife and I made the decision to put him down before he took a turn for the worse. Having to give the dog a sedative before the lethal needle is gut wrenching. Watching a dog with a wagging tail be put down is horrible. 

Went though that with my German shorthair, Ginger. She had pancreatic cancer and developed a huge tumor. I held her and started bawling when the vet gave her the shots.

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I will never have another dog after this guy. Would be too hard. Resized_20200709_215720.thumb.jpeg.95a62a547bf46325f537177bc2e4587f.jpeg20191019_171439.thumb.jpg.072c94fef5379cb731f0558aafa9ed49.jpg20200209_110040.thumb.jpg.663ba5239648957d980485f9e7fe6557.jpgAll my dogs have run off, got run over, or have been stolen. I've never had a dog as long as him. 

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2 minutes ago, Outdoor Writer said:

Went though that with my German shorthair, Ginger. She had pancreatic cancer and developed a huge tumor. I held her an started bawling when the vet gave her the shots.

Its pure torture. My then wife and i were puddles of goo. Charlie was a special dog. My then wife and step daughter came into his life when he was already several years old, and he immediately accepted them as family, and protected my step daughter as though they grew up together.

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My bloodhound is 11.5 and doesn’t have a lot of tread left on his tires. He’s been through about a dozen different “moms” and one less breakup with me. Man, they get old fast. 
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