Scout at the point.

Scout had been with us for nearly eleven years, the average life-span of a black lab. Her every molecule oozed classic lab from her eagerness to please, her loyalty to her humans, to the common occurrence of cancer, which got her in the end.
Scout made joy happen in our household. She celebrated every homecoming with a dance. She even threw a little party when she came in from “doing her business.” When we laughed, or danced or snuggled, she’d run in from another room to join in.
She protested when we “discussed” politics. She’d come to one of us and urgently nuzzle our hand until we stroked her head and massaged her satin ears. “Stop arguing about meaningless things,” she seemed to say.
Scout led our hearts in the right direction: daily walks along the canyon rim, lunging after bunnies, jumping in the river just because. Over her eleven years, I figure Scout and I hiked at least 11,000 miles together.
We usually took a break at what we call “The Point,” a narrow peninsula high above the river across the canyon from the golden eagles’ favorite perch and in view of Mt. Bachelor, Mt. Washington, the Three Sisters and Mt. Jefferson.
Scout sat on my foot and leaned into my leg. We’d look off in the same direction, me running my hand over her coat mindlessly, until I stopped and Scout nudged me to keep petting. She knew
what was important.
Love. Loyalty. Companionship.
Our dog loved everyone. She wriggled in delight at the feet of everyone who came to our door or met us on the trail.
We poured our love into Scout, that worthy vessel of our affection, and in the giving, our love multiplied exponentially. A connection as uncomplicated as this makes that miraculous equation
so clear: the more love we give the more love we have to give.
Higher sources, more famous people put it into words. “The greatest of these is love.”
“All you need is love.” Scout wagged her tail.
If only all of our relationships were as simple. Of course, so many differences strain at our relationship, especially now.
Maybe if, like Scout, we lead with love, acknowledge the value in that other person. Is that too simple? Or not simple enough? I just know she made me a better person.
We have a bell she’d ring if she needed to go out, or needed more water, or wanted her evening treats. That bell hangs slack and silent now. We can’t bear to take it away.
May the spirit of her grace always be with us.