This is a bit after the fact, but I didn't want this news to become a footnote in my other blog posts. The honorary sixth member of the Giertych family, Scout, passed on June 4th. At 16 years old, it was her time to go. She lived an amazingly long life.
I can barely remember a time before we had her. I have a distinct memory of sitting on the floor of my kitchen in my AYSO uniform.My dad lifted her out of her box. She was the runt of her litter and sick when we brought her home. She surveyed her surroundings and gently padded toward my outstretched hand. She gingerly curled up in my lap and, in that small instance, she was officially a member of the family.
There are plenty of memories running through my mind. On the second full day we had her the morning erupted into tears as her razor sharp puppy teeth were too much for Mark's toes to handle. There was also the time she ate all of the colored Easter eggs and pooped in technicolor for a week. There were countless mornings that she snatched our breakfast right out from under our noses and plenty of summer nights spent chasing after her during one of her many daring escapes. I'll never forget the time she got out of the farm house in Maine and she was bounding like a gazelle through the tall grass, pure glee etched on her face.
This past summer Scout and I became lounge buddies. With my knee recuperating from surgery, she kept me company while I watched episodes of The West Wing. I was always grateful that she was around...even if she would always slowly wander off when I let her outside. It's like she knew I had a bum knee and was therefore the only family member that she could (briefly) escape from.
Trying to find a way out of the kitchen.
What a pretty old lady!
Begging for a treat, as per usual.