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Scout. 1989-2005
| Posted on 5/4/2005
After a long illness, Scout, Sheryl’s dog and close companion, passed away on Tuesday night May 3rd 2005.
Not only is his exact breed a kind of a guess (lab mix) but we’re also in the dark about his age. He was already about 4 years old when Sheryl saw him in a temporary weekend dog pound on the street somewhere in West Hollywood circa 1993. He came with his name, a collar and little else. He was not an easy dog to get to know. I personally invested hours and hours of attention just to get him to recognise my existence, and I think, eventually, he began to like me.
On the other end of the scale was his love for Sheryl. It was unconditional- well almost. When we had been to such far flung places as Japan where he was unable to travel with us, on Sheryl’s welcome return back into his life, it would take a moment for her to thaw that thin layer of disapproval for having been abandoned rather than included as part of the touring entourage. He was not stupid and he did not like to be left behind.
In the States, when we toured by bus, he joined us as part of the team. He was Sheryl’s shadow…at all times...from being at her feet during soundcheck, dinner, or press interview to laying with her in the bunk in the bus on the overnight rides. Sometimes he would even have his head next to hers on the pillow. On the occasion that he would get too hot and be unable to sleep he would get up and go to the front of the bus to keep our first driver, Bernie, company. While one was taking the inevitable nocturnal trip to the bathroom it was a comforting sight to see Scout sitting dutifully at the front, staring ahead into the dark, the only movement either being from the window wipers or Bernies hand occasionally giving him a pat on the head.
At first it was a challenge to get Scout into hotels. Before the first avalanche of Grammys most people had not heard of Sheryl, never mind Scout, and we were given none of the preferential consideration that we would later enjoy. We often found ourselves sneaking him in through underground parking lot entrances or any other way to avoid the wide open exposure of the lobby. Of course all this covert behaviour was lost on Scout who just trotted along with us, tongue hanging out. Our careful stealth planning was often later for nothing when he revealed his existence by his usual announcement of room service arrival: a wild flurry of loud ferocious barks. Of course when Sheryl opened the door the game was up. She was with dog and the room service attendant was....sometimes no where to be seen....often making haste back to HQ with a report…followed by stern phone calls from them, pleas for consideration from us which once fell on deaf ears and lead to the entourage indignantly checking out and sleeping in the bus. Again, Scout just trotted along with us, tongue etc. Rumors that we once pretended that he was a working seeing eye dog with his owner brandishing a white cane, cannot be confirmed.
After Sheryl won some Grammys, Scout’s standing changed almost instantly and he was guest of honor at the Ritz Carltons, Sheryl's room often pre-furnished with special dog bowls with his name on them. Not that it changed him a bit. He wasn't spoilt. Just give him a pigs ear and the company of Sheryl and that's all he needed. Those were pretty much his only desires. That is of course not counting the fact that he seemed to enjoy a good dog fight which was about the only aspect of his character that was maybe a little disarming. If you were a guy dog and you were near Scout, then you had to watch out. He just didn’t like the guys and it didn’t matter what size. Once while staying at my house he took it upon himself to take the next door neighbors much maligned Jack Russell, Sparky, by the neck and fling him six feet in the air with the flick of his head. It was frightening, and as far as the non-Sparky-owner neighbors were concerned, glorious. He was the king of our street after that, and he was only visiting.
Ladies, however, were OK in his book. Even although his ‘family jewels’ had been taken away against his will he didn’t seem to care or show that he felt the loss. It was only in the last few years that we found out why. A smart Hollywood vet discovered that although he had been relieved of the usual quota of two testicles early in his puppyhood- there was indeed another still in existence proving that Scout certainly was a special dog.
But he wasn’t only involved in touring. Invisibly and silently Scout has been on every album that Sheryl has ever put out. As on tour he assumed his position at her feet from as early as the Tuesday Night Music Club days. He's been at the late night recording sessions that Sheryl is renowned for, and sat shot gun as they drove home through the near empty streets of Hollywood in the early hours of the morning. He’s attended the mixes and the masterings, and even a few poignant high powered meetings, the outcome of which have defined Sheryl's career.
He actually was there at the beginning, well before the rest of us. He even made it to Woodstock. The second one that is.
I will never forget, when Sheryl had to leave the tour for a video or something, Scout hung out with me that night in my hotel room. When I woke in the morning and opened my eyes my vision was filled with a black nose, snout and brown eyes staring at me in the face. As his eyebrows twitched rhythmically up and down he looked at me expectantly and I heard the thump, thump, thump, of his tail on the bed. Good morning…uh…time to pee- he seemed to say. It was moments like these that I really felt he was much more than just a dog. To Sheryl and a small collection of specially chosen humans, he was a canine brother, a confidante, a soul mate, a walking companion, a protector, a fellow movie watcher, a listener, a sharer of snacks, and above all a woman's (and some men's) very best friend.
God speed Scout.
We love you.
CH
Not only is his exact breed a kind of a guess (lab mix) but we’re also in the dark about his age. He was already about 4 years old when Sheryl saw him in a temporary weekend dog pound on the street somewhere in West Hollywood circa 1993. He came with his name, a collar and little else. He was not an easy dog to get to know. I personally invested hours and hours of attention just to get him to recognise my existence, and I think, eventually, he began to like me.
On the other end of the scale was his love for Sheryl. It was unconditional- well almost. When we had been to such far flung places as Japan where he was unable to travel with us, on Sheryl’s welcome return back into his life, it would take a moment for her to thaw that thin layer of disapproval for having been abandoned rather than included as part of the touring entourage. He was not stupid and he did not like to be left behind.
In the States, when we toured by bus, he joined us as part of the team. He was Sheryl’s shadow…at all times...from being at her feet during soundcheck, dinner, or press interview to laying with her in the bunk in the bus on the overnight rides. Sometimes he would even have his head next to hers on the pillow. On the occasion that he would get too hot and be unable to sleep he would get up and go to the front of the bus to keep our first driver, Bernie, company. While one was taking the inevitable nocturnal trip to the bathroom it was a comforting sight to see Scout sitting dutifully at the front, staring ahead into the dark, the only movement either being from the window wipers or Bernies hand occasionally giving him a pat on the head.
At first it was a challenge to get Scout into hotels. Before the first avalanche of Grammys most people had not heard of Sheryl, never mind Scout, and we were given none of the preferential consideration that we would later enjoy. We often found ourselves sneaking him in through underground parking lot entrances or any other way to avoid the wide open exposure of the lobby. Of course all this covert behaviour was lost on Scout who just trotted along with us, tongue hanging out. Our careful stealth planning was often later for nothing when he revealed his existence by his usual announcement of room service arrival: a wild flurry of loud ferocious barks. Of course when Sheryl opened the door the game was up. She was with dog and the room service attendant was....sometimes no where to be seen....often making haste back to HQ with a report…followed by stern phone calls from them, pleas for consideration from us which once fell on deaf ears and lead to the entourage indignantly checking out and sleeping in the bus. Again, Scout just trotted along with us, tongue etc. Rumors that we once pretended that he was a working seeing eye dog with his owner brandishing a white cane, cannot be confirmed.
After Sheryl won some Grammys, Scout’s standing changed almost instantly and he was guest of honor at the Ritz Carltons, Sheryl's room often pre-furnished with special dog bowls with his name on them. Not that it changed him a bit. He wasn't spoilt. Just give him a pigs ear and the company of Sheryl and that's all he needed. Those were pretty much his only desires. That is of course not counting the fact that he seemed to enjoy a good dog fight which was about the only aspect of his character that was maybe a little disarming. If you were a guy dog and you were near Scout, then you had to watch out. He just didn’t like the guys and it didn’t matter what size. Once while staying at my house he took it upon himself to take the next door neighbors much maligned Jack Russell, Sparky, by the neck and fling him six feet in the air with the flick of his head. It was frightening, and as far as the non-Sparky-owner neighbors were concerned, glorious. He was the king of our street after that, and he was only visiting.
Ladies, however, were OK in his book. Even although his ‘family jewels’ had been taken away against his will he didn’t seem to care or show that he felt the loss. It was only in the last few years that we found out why. A smart Hollywood vet discovered that although he had been relieved of the usual quota of two testicles early in his puppyhood- there was indeed another still in existence proving that Scout certainly was a special dog.
But he wasn’t only involved in touring. Invisibly and silently Scout has been on every album that Sheryl has ever put out. As on tour he assumed his position at her feet from as early as the Tuesday Night Music Club days. He's been at the late night recording sessions that Sheryl is renowned for, and sat shot gun as they drove home through the near empty streets of Hollywood in the early hours of the morning. He’s attended the mixes and the masterings, and even a few poignant high powered meetings, the outcome of which have defined Sheryl's career.
He actually was there at the beginning, well before the rest of us. He even made it to Woodstock. The second one that is.
I will never forget, when Sheryl had to leave the tour for a video or something, Scout hung out with me that night in my hotel room. When I woke in the morning and opened my eyes my vision was filled with a black nose, snout and brown eyes staring at me in the face. As his eyebrows twitched rhythmically up and down he looked at me expectantly and I heard the thump, thump, thump, of his tail on the bed. Good morning…uh…time to pee- he seemed to say. It was moments like these that I really felt he was much more than just a dog. To Sheryl and a small collection of specially chosen humans, he was a canine brother, a confidante, a soul mate, a walking companion, a protector, a fellow movie watcher, a listener, a sharer of snacks, and above all a woman's (and some men's) very best friend.
God speed Scout.
We love you.
CH
