What's in a Name?

For a few weeks there, I had no name.

“Here, Boy,” She’d say. “Good Boy.”  

It wasn’t always so. My first family called me Amelio. But then, for reasons I can’t understand, they gave me away. Sure, I messed in the house a little and chewed a shoe or two. I was just a puppy, after all. Talk about no second chances. Before I knew it, I was out.

My second family named me Blaze because I could run like wildfire. I had to. The kids stuck their fingers in my eyes and when I growled my objection, the father whacked me on the snout. It wasn't long until they gave me away, too.

I was kind of scruffy back then….

By the time I was three I’d had two names and three homes and had landed in the custody of Doggie Protective Services. And so I waited in foster care, trotted out at weekend pet fairs, hoping someone nice might come along to rescue me. Competition was steep. There were a lot of rescue dogs to choose from. And by now I had a reputation. No men, no kids were the warnings attached to my adoption papers. I watched as other dogs were adopted, strutting away to their forever homes.

And then one day, She came along. She talked to my foster mom, walked me around the parking lot, sized me up. I really liked her.

 “I’ll take Blaze,” She said.

 “No men in the home?” the boss lady asked. “No children?”

 “No problem,” She said. She looked kind of sad.

The first few weeks at Her house, I had no name.

“Sit, Boy,” She’d say. “Stay, Boy. Good boy.”

Who was Boy?

The house was big and empty. There were a lot of rooms that we never seemed to go in, filled with the faint smells of other people. I slept in a kennel next to Her bed. We walked the block five times a day. She taught me tricks. Sometimes, She cried.

            “Hey, Boy,” She’d greet me in the morning. “Mommy always comes back,” She said whenever she left the house.

And so it went, until one day, snuggling on the sofa watching Her favorite TV show, she cooed, “Hey, Boy, aren’t we lucky we found each other? It sure took you a long time to scout out a good home.”

She looked at me for a moment; something just clicked.

"What do you think about 'Scout'? She smiled and held me close.

That’s how a rescue dog from three homes with two name got his forever name, Scout. As I rested my head on Her cozy lap, I wondered, “Who really rescued whom?”