(Jillian A. Bogater, Originally published on Finding Furever, June 15, 2012, Ferndale 115 News, June 19, 2012)
Within minutes of arriving, Scout was chasing a large tennis ball in our backyard. Bounding, prancing, awkwardly hopping the way a young dog does. Matt and I looked at each other without saying a word. There’s no other way to describe it than … puppy love.
Before we tell any more of this story, we have to thank the people that made this happiness possible: the wonderful volunteers at True Heart MinPin Rescue. Based in Richmond, Ky., foster mom Gail drove almost seven hours to Michigan this morning with precious cargo.
As Scout hopped out of Gail’s car, we noticed he didn’t look much like his online profile pic. He was much thinner (his puppy paunch was gone), his nose seemed more slender and in general he seemed smaller than we expected. And, to top it all off, he was beyond adorable. In a way a puppy profile would never be able to accomplish. Puppy love, indeed.
While we were all standing in the yard, Gail confessed that her husband didn’t want Scout to go. They had become close buddies in the last couple months, and her husband told her, “No one will be able to take care of him the way I do.”
With the compassion of an animal rescue worker, she assured him Scout will be OK, that she was sure of it. And by him letting go, that opened a spot to save another dog. I tried to imagine myself letting a sweetie like Scout into my home for a couple months, knowing eventually he would move on to a loving adoptive home. I don’t think I have it in me. The loss and grief would be too much. Gail and her husband are cut from a special cloth. She told me the first time she and her husband turned over a dog o a new family, they drove a block away, pulled over and sobbed. She said it gets easier, especially knowing when a dog is going to a great home.
Lexie is nonplussed. In fact, she’s taking a snooze right now. Their initial meeting went well, and it was followed up by a thorough butt sniffing in the back yard. Ya know, pups need privacy. You can’t just make a move like that on the front lawn!
And Pink could care less. She seemed more interested in snagging some of his puppy chow than hanging out.
And Matt seems content to have another furry friend to share the couch at naptime. As Matt took a catnap this afternoon, Scout lined up several squeaky toys and ropies along Matt’s belly.
Good dog.
Help us rename Scout!
When I told my mom we planned to let ya’ll pick Scout’s new name, she laughed.
“But you already have the name picked out, right?” she asked.
“No, we’re asking for suggestions, then we will put the top names in a poll. Our blog readers will select the name.”
I can’t remember her response, but I’m pretty sure my mom said we were crazy.
Perhaps, but we’re more than happy to involve you in our puppy journey. I mean, you’ve been here this far; I can tell you are invested. So why not help with the name?
Send us your suggestions, either in the comments below, on the Finding Furever Facebook page or by emailing us at findingfurever2012@gmail.com.
We will pick the top names then post them in a poll, where you will make the final decision.
So far we’ve received a few interesting submissions, including Kitty, Walter, Rocket and Mocha.
Update Posted on June 18, 2012
And my name is …
It was a three-way race to the end but one name emerged victorious.
Meet Charlie “Scout” Greenberg.
Charlie is sitting in Lexie’s spot, but she’s OK with it.
This name won by a nose.
At first it was a strong two-name race, between Charlie and Walter. They duked it out. Then, out of nowhere, Maxwell entered the race as a dark horse. They remained basically in a three-way tie almost to the end.
My favorite, Henry, came in dead last with two votes. I’d really like to meet the other person who cast a vote for Henry and shake his or her hand. I still stand by my vote.
Ira came in just ahead of Henry. But Matt and I were a bit relieved, and both agreed that name would be best saved for someone’s first born, rather than a cute pup.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the Scout contingent. You were loud. And persistent. And honestly, if Scout — the name he came with — was an entry on the pool, surely this would have been one helluva four-way race.
As a nod to all ya’ll Scout-heads, we will keep that as a middle name, to be used at our discretion. Most likely when I really need to get his attention. Like when he’s eating a pair of underwear or pooping under my dressing table (OK, that only happened once, so far).
Charlie seems a perfect fit. He’s already turned his head when Matt called out his new name.
We’re off to a good start.
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