Finding Scout
by acdscout

When I decided to get another dog, I thought of a little puppy. Really little. My last dog had been a black Lab that I raised from eight weeks, and it seemed the right thing to start from that age.

But everyone around my area right then seemed to be fresh out of puppies. I called several numbers from the newspaper, but the answer was always, "I’m sorry, we’ve sold them all." Bad timing I guess, or maybe it was fate. I took the advice of a friend and started looking for rescue dogs.

I found one I liked at a nearby animal shelter. He was a sweet, energetic black Lab mix, and he reminded me of the Lab I had before. But he was recovering from mange, and he wasn’t completely cured, and since he would be associating with my mother’s dogs, it was too risky for their sakes to take him.

After searching all the likely spots, I wound up at a pet store where a local rescue organization was having an adoption event. I looked up and down the row of cages, stopping now and again to pet and talk to the dogs, but nothing seemed just what I was looking for.

Then, one of the workers came in with a dog — a very skinny dog, medium height, alert, cute and perky. For some inexplicable reason, I was entranced. I kept my eye on the pair, as the woman with the rescue group brought her to an empty cage and put her in.

Just before she closed the cage door, she held out a treat. "Give Mama a kiss," she said, and the dog promptly licked the woman’s face in a business–like manner. I grinned at that. I liked that dog.

Left alone in her cage, the little dog looked around, and then settled down to work. With her head cocked to one side, she started barking loudly at her next door neighbor. The barking was noisy, but that tilted head and the intent look in those bright brown eyes made the whole scene very amusing.

I asked about the dog and the woman who had brought her in, Cheryl, said excitedly, "She’s a Heeler!" I looked at her blankly. I had never heard of a Heeler before, so she translated for me — Australian Cattle Dog. That I had heard of.

When I asked for details, I learned that the dog was about 8 months old. Cheryl had picked her up one day, a stray huddling under a railroad overpass, evidently abandoned.

When they took her to a vet, he estimated she was then about 7 months old. That had been a month before I found her.

Since then, she had received royal treatment for a rescue dog. No cage at the rescue facility for this Heeler. Cheryl had been keeping her at her own home because she was especially fond of the breed and had three of her own. I rather think that if she could have kept four, I would never have met the dog at all.

While she had the little Heeler at her house, she housetrained her and taught her to sit. Inviting me to watch, she took the dog from the cage to show me how she could sit for a treat. It was adorable to see that skinny little thing sitting so promptly and perfectly for that treat, obviously so proud of herself.

That sit decided me -- she was cute, intelligent and highly amusing. I had to have that dog, and after all the paperwork was finished, she was mine.

I named her Scout after my favorite character in the novel, To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee. There’s a little girl in the story, Jean Louise Finch, who is quite a tomboy, and her nickname is Scout.

At that time, I knew little about Heelers, but I read a lot and learned a lot from experience. I got to know now how attached they get, how possessive and jealous they are about their space, their toys and their owners.

They are easily trained and very obedient. Scout is super’smart about words and signals, but not so quick at problem–solving. As for exercise, I have yet to see her get enough. I once saw this breed described, "seemingly tireless," and believe me, it’s still true of her even at 8 years old.

My one Heeler has made me a fan for life. My next dog may be a rescue dog, but only if I can find another Heeler. I’d get another one now, but, given the nature of Heelers, I don’t think Scout would let me!