All I know about Scout’s background is that she was found in Tennessee in 2008, and was brought to a kill shelter there. I was told that because of a minor medical issue she was was not going to be kept for more than a day. Thankfully, a shelter worker thought she was adorable and adoptable, and called a woman who fosters dogs with an organization in Mississippi called Good Dog. The two women each drove quite a distance to meet in the middle to transfer Scout. Her foster mother arranged veterinary care — all she needed was antibiotics — and named her Abigail.
I had been referred to Good Dog by a friend and saw “Abigail” among their available dogs on petfinder.com. After Good Dog approved my application, Scout was transported with other dogs and cats to New York, and I met her at a highway rest stop. People lined up when the trailer pulled in to wait for their new pets’ names to be called; there were many happy tears.
“Abigail” clearly did not fit this scruffy little tomboy I held, and she wisely didn’t answer to it. I named her after the little girl nicknamed Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird. Their personalities have continued to be surprisingly similar.
We bonded the first day, when, both totally exhausted and emotionally drained, we fell asleep on my couch. She has shadowed me ever since. She commutes to work with me and goes to a doggy day care near my office. Everyone loves Scout, and she vastly prefers people to dogs. She has accompanied me to a few out of town trials, and has been anointed “Trial Dog”, with responsibility for reducing the trial team’s blood pressure after court each day by subjecting herself to hugs and petting. Three and a half years after adopting Scout, I cannot imagine life without her.
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