Two weeks after moving to Minneapolis, I finally went for it.
I dog-sat for friends, neighbors, and strangers in New York City, a lot. At one point, it was a great side-hustle paying for my travels. But this time, it was different.
There were certain breeds I connected with more than others. Some were goofy, others were mischievous.
But at the heart of it, every dog I spent time with was loving, showed love, and made me feel loved in a different way.
It was lonely at first in Minnesota, unpacking boxes and hoping to make new friends as I explored a completely new city. I missed New York, and the friends I already had there, a lot.
So I went to the Minnesota Animal Humane Society shelter in St. Paul one day after my reporting shift, “‘just to look.”
Scout caught my eyes. She just looked so scared that I instinctively just wanted to rescue her.
She was hiding in the very back of her kennel, tail tucked, and visibly frightened with everything going on around her.
I walked past her and told myself, if she showed any signs that she ‘picked me,’ I would also ‘pick her.’
But nothing happened.
I walked around some more, but didn’t connect with any of the other pups. I ended up back at her kennel and when I looked at her, she began tapping her tail.
That was the first sign.
I talked to a volunteer, asking about some of the pups, and when I looked down, there was Scout (previously named “Natasha”) at the front of her kennel, with her paw up against the metal wires.
She left her hiding spot and came right up to me!
We went on a walk and it was a done deal.
She and I were in sync almost immediately. She didn’t pull on the leash. She didn’t run at any other dogs, she didn’t bark. She stood by my side closely.
She was so gentle around me, and already loving from the first moment.
I knew she picked me, and as I had promised, it was time to fill out the paperwork.
I’ll never forget those adoptions papers, my heart pounding as I realized this was a 10-15 year commitment, if all goes well. And I remember and (embarrassingly) asking about what would happen if she wasn’t a good fit and could I bring her back (brutal).
We got in my car and that’s when the adventure began.
I couldn’t be happier I found a curious little dog, always in search of something — that’s where her name “Scout” comes from.
Scout is also named after the courageous girl in “To Kill A Mockingbird,” which to date, is my favorite Broadway play — the one where Jeff Daniels played Atticus.
I am so lucky and made the right decision to bring her home. Maybe I was “scouting” for her too.
But the first few weeks were trying. So trying.
I cried, a lot, feeling like I needed a manual or just anything that could help me understand her and make her feel better. Scout was adapting, she was still shy and scared.
Potty training was a mess.
She hid when she peed and always did it when I was in my bedroom or in the shower.
There were so many accidents.
She was used to peeing in the kennel, and I’ve since learned she was rescued from a reservation way up North in Minnesota — although it feels like she may have been with a family and not necessarily a stray on the streets.
Scout taught me patience, and is still teaching me patience. And that’s a hard one for me to learn.
Every day, I counted the little moments.
The first time she peed outside, my body overflowed with happiness. There was only one accident that week. I was so proud.
My neighbor told me to keep a book, or a log. Every day, write down any breakthroughs I saw with her.
The lesson here is not everything needs to happen in a day. And, what a difference day can make.
Every new moment with Scout fills me up with joy because I get excited for what she will do next, and what else she can learn where she becomes more confident and sure of herself.
She wagged her tail on our walk a few weeks in, instead of cowering behind me every time someone passed by.
She became more cuddly too.
Little by little, we took steps together, through trial and error.
And finally, she was outgoing enough where she began making dog friends.
She has gone on many “dog dates” with me, as I also began making friends in the new city. It always felt like we were similar, in personality and in action.
So here’s what Scout also taught me: things don’t have to look the way you pictured. And often, the unimaginable is even better.
I expected a bit smaller of a dog (Scout is 40 pounds), maybe a little fluffier, and being used to dogsitting all boy dogs, probably a bog (although, I’m not sure how much of a difference that makes, except that she’s sassy.. like mom).
Despite not being what I imagined, she makes me laugh all the time… and more than I thought I would. Teaching her how to play fetch was hilarious; she didn’t understand why she kept needing to “Go get the ball.”
She is more than what I wished for, even if she didn’t show up in the way I expected.
I learned from her to embrace unknowns, realize there are mysteries I can’t solve (awful for a reporter to sit with), even if still unsettling.
I wonder about a lot of things about my rescue dog, like how long has Scout been bouncing around from shelter to shelter? Her report says at least two shelters, maybe more. I wonder about what her life was before me.
Did she get toys and treats in her old home? Was she loved? Did she behave? Were there children in the home she kept safe, and did it hurt for the family to surrender her? Why wasn’t she spayed? Does that family think of her still? Does she remember them?
Scout taught me grace.
I don’t know her past or her trauma, but I could still try to understand and more importantly, love her.
On days where she exhausts me and I feel like I can’t balance work, “me time,” friend time, keeping up with the apartment, meal prepping, and every responsibility that comes with being an adult… I look at her and think about what a joy it is that she is not in a kennel, or worse, at a kill shelter.
By the time I adopted her, she had been in the shelter for more than two weeks. And studies show dogs with black fur, adult dogs, and dogs that have been in shelters for more than a week are more difficult to be adopted. And some never get adopted at all.
I think she’s still figuring out her personality outside the shelter system, but she opens up more each day.
She runs with me now, tongue flopping to the side. And she has a good life.
In that way, she taught me gratitude.
Scout makes me feel less lonely.
I’ve moved to 7 different states and I will say this has been one of the smoothest moves. I’m friends with my neighbors and a few other dog moms in the building. I’m good friends with some of my coworkers — I lean on them for the tough reporting days. And I’m making friends outside of work who are caring and kind and supportive. And I have Scout.
I learned it’s okay to rely on something or someone, because sometimes that’s the relief I need.
I guess what Scout represents for me, is my ability to juggle, be adventurous and brave enough to get a dog, and take care of it, alone. And largely without support.
Working in a newsroom that never sleeps, writing, keeping up with friends, single dog mom wasn’t in the plan. And yet, even as I travel solo, at home, she is the company I want and need.
And so here a new take on life “solo.”
Crystal, still on her own, but now with Scout by her side.
The adventure continues,
