Tucker

This blog turns into a journal tonight. It's typically a place where we post funny stories, happy pictures, the everyday good things that we think that our friends and family might enjoy.

Today was a tough day. We lost a great friend. Tucker, our 6 year old Westie, died this afternoon.

Lauren and I got Tucker a few months after we got married. I can remember sitting in my apartment when we were engaged, researching dog breeds and looking up breeders. We are both dog people and we knew we wanted a dog as soon as we could get one. And as soon as our living arrangements allowed for it, we got Tucker. He was our wedding gift to each other. Lauren was 24 when we married, and today, the day Tucker died, she turned 30.

We drove down to see him for the first time when he was tiny and just born. We knew we wanted a male Westie and the closest breeder was in South Central Mississippi. They were creepy, weird people. I can remember holding him in the palm of my hand. We had to wait a few weeks to get him and prepared excitedly.

In November of 2004, I drove down to Meridian to pick him up, unbeknownst to Lauren. She was working at the Tupelo hospital, and I knew I could be back with him before she got home. It was one of the few times that a surprise for her worked, and one of the happiest days of my life to see her with him that night. When I went to sweep, he chased the broom around the room not five minutes after I had brought him in for the first time.

We walked him almost daily in West Point. The neighborhood kids would say "Look at that show dog!" And some would say "That's not a dog, that's a cat!" His first playmate was a mutt named Chrome that he barked at on the other side of the fence.

We then moved to Memphis in an apartment on Mud Island. He loved to sit out on our balcony and watch people. We would take him on long walks on the Island. My friend and colleague Brian would see me running with him. Tucker would get lazy on those runs and want to stop every five minutes to sniff. Brian said that he thought I was getting an awesome workout because it was like having an anchor behind me. Of course, if we turned around and headed toward home, Tucker would sprint ahead of me excitedly.

Cate was born, and he was great with her. People told us that we would get rid of him when the baby got there. He was gentle with her, loved her, and she loved him. He endured hair pulling and getting tugged on, and he was extremely patient. To my knowledge, he never snapped in anger at either one of our children, no matter what was being done to him. He would bark and wait patiently for one of us to come free him.

We moved to Tupelo and Ava came along, and he was the same old dog. The kids liked to chase him, and he was always up to playing.

Tucker had his quirks. Above all things, he loved dirty socks. He'd wait for you to take them off and scoop them up and run around the house with them, wanting to be chased. Above all things, he hated the vacuum cleaner. The base of it has his teeth marks all over it. When he ate, he would get his food in his mouth, walk in another room, chew it up, then go back to get another bite. He liked to wrestle with the cat until she slapped him one good time. He barely obeyed at all, though I taught him and he understood the basic dog commands. If something was in it for him, he'd comply. Otherwise, he wouldn't. He feared being left. If he could tell we were going somewhere, he would jet out the door and get under the car, until somebody opened the car door for him to jump in.

Tucker knew when someone was sick. He would lay right beside the sick person almost always.
He slept in the bed with me and Lauren since he was a puppy, I'm ashamed to admit. On cold nights, he'd get under the covers. One cold night, he was deep under the covers and Lauren's feet were cold. She said "I've got a natural foot warmer," and the next sound I heard was a growl and a bark and he moved to the other side of the bed.

He was ridiculously pampered. He was not functional for anything. He didn't do any great tricks. But he was an awesome, awesome dog. Lauren and I agree that he was the best dog either of us had ever been around. His disposition was just so good.

Ava has done fine today. She's too young to get this. I am sure she'll ask about him, but she is not hurting, which is good. Cate has asked a lot of questions. She doesn't understand that there is no "why" to this, and she has been very curious and worried about death lately anyway, and so we're not sure if this is the best time for her.

The thing about it is that Tucker has been with Lauren and I through three moves, my parents' divorce, the birth of two children, job changes, etc. After a long day, he was always waiting, always glad to see us. That's no small thing. And like any good dog, he loved us when we did the wrong thing or had failed each other or our family or him in some way.

I'm not big into dog sob stories. And I am very aware that people everywhere around us are enduring much harder things than this. It's cliche' to say "This dog was part of the family," but I am at loss for anything else to say. There is definitely a void in the house right now. A good dog is a blessing from God. And God richly, richly blessed us with Tucker. I suppose man can figure out a way to love all kinds of things, some good and some bad. We loved Tucker, and we miss him greatly tonight.