It seems that lately the only posts I have been doing have been about the loss of a dear friend, and today's post is no different. Yesterday we lost our beloved Tucker.
Tucker's full name was Tennessee Tucker Blue. He was a full-blooded bluetick coonhound with seven generations of purple champions in his bloodline. Seven documented generations, that is. He came to us in July of 2002, after we lost our black and tan coonhound, Rebel. Our family was still aching from the loss of Rebel when I saw an ad in the paper for bluetick coonhound puppies. Steve had always wanted a full-blooded bluetick, so off we went to see these puppies.
There were three of them left. We saw both the momma and daddy, and they were beautiful. The puppies were running around in a pen with the momma. Tucker was the only boy and was the runt of the litter. We picked him up, and Jason promptly dropped him on his head. Actually, that's not accurate. Tucker squirmed and got out of Jason's arms, but we like to say that Tucker was stupid because he was dropped on his head. Tucker took the ride home in Jason's lap. Although Tucker was registered to Steve, he was definitely Jason's dog. Jason needed a friend, and Tucker needed a family. It was a perfect fit.
Tucker was a handful as a puppy, as most puppies are, but we were used to Rebel, who would come when called, had grown out of the chewing stage, and would stay in the front yard with us when we were outside. Not so with Tucker. Tucker chewed everything that didn't chew him first. He made toothpicks out of our furniture and it was an adventure to wake up every morning to see what destruction he wrought throughout the night. There was newspaper scattered everywhere... chewed up into little bitty pieces. I don't know what the fascination was with newspaper, but it carried over for any paper we had... tissues, toilet paper, mail, and whatever we had on the table. The possibilities for the destruction he wrought were endless.
We tried taking him to the park a few times. Rebel had loved the park, and we thought Tucker would too. He did... but with that pure bloodline of his, his instincts for hunting were so strong that once let off the leash, if he caught the scent of something, off he went, with us running after him. He probably would have kept on running and never looked back if we hadn't caught up with him. So the park was out for him. That was too bad, because that was our Saturday mornings with Rebel and we looked forward to having another dog that we could let run.
As he grew out of the puppy stage, we trained him to a leash. And boy, did he love to go for his walks. He grew too strong for me to handle, and Jason was usually the one to take charge of him. He would get so excited when he saw the leash, and would tug hard to just go! Once out the door, he would go and go... and think "Boy, this is great... oh wait... I gotta take a dump." And dump he did. Everywhere. You could always tell Tucker's dump. It looked like a mountain lion had been on our street. It grew to be embarrassing take him around the block because you could tell Tucker's dump, and it lasted a long time. He especially loved his walks in the snow. The last snow we had was a few weeks ago, and Tucker loved to run around in it. We would skid and slide, all the while having the time of his life. We loved him for it.
The 4th of July and New Year's Eve were a special time for Tucker. He loved bottle rockets and would run circles around them and try to catch them. I think he might have gotten singed by one once, but that didn't damper his enthusiasm for them. He barked and ran around and around. We took a video that showed how crazy he was during those times. We laughed at him, but we loved him all the same.
Tucker's backyard was his world to him. Safe within its confines, he could run and chase squirrels up a tree. The problem was that he would see a squirrel run up into a tree, and for three days afterward, that was where he would first run to when we let him outside. He would look for that darned squirrel and bark his fool head off. After the three days, we would chide him for it and he would finally realize that the squirrel had long since gone. He was stupid that way, but we loved him for it.
There were times when Tucker would get out of the backyard. He grew to be so strong, he would break the boards in the fence. Jason had a tough time keeping up with the broken boards sometimes. And when Tucker couldn't break them, he would dig out. Once he got stuck in the fence and we knew there was something wrong when we heard a loud crack and a howl. We went out to find him stuck halfway in and halfway out of the yard. We called him stupid a lot... but we loved him anyway.
Tucker was the only dog in our house until Gizmo wandered up the driveway one day and decided to stay. Tucker had a new toy! He would play with Giz and put him down on the ground with one push of his paw. He never hurt Gizmo, but sometimes when he was jealous, he would stick his big nose under Gizmo's butt and lift him off the ground. Tucker was especially jealous when Gizmo got a bath and he didn't. He "sludged" him until he was dirty. "Sludging" was how Tucker licked us. He didn't give nice clean kisses, but sludges. I don't know how many times I had to change clothes because I was obviously sludged by Tucker. I would get irritated by it, but I knew that he loved me and the feeling was mutual.
When Tucker was 6 years old, he still thought he was a puppy, until Rocky came along. Rocky found Tucker to be a great playmate, and Tucker quickly found out he was no longer a puppy. Rocky would grab hold of his neck and not let go. Round and round they would go in the backyard, and they got into lots of trouble together. The two were famous friends and loved to play. Rocky would instigate him into doing things he would normally not do. I don't think Tucker knew he was doing something wrong until I would come into the dining room and find both of them on the floor, chewing the heads off my Christmas tree angels. I wish I had a video of it. I found him with an angel between his paws, chewing once, twice, and then stopped with the angel in his mouth and looked up at me. Busted! It wasn't the last time the two would do something like that. I was angry at the time, but it makes for a funny memory and I love him for it.
Tucker had the most beautiful howl I had ever heard. And the most annoying when he got going and wouldn't stop. But we knew that as long as Tucker was around, he would let nothing and no one into the backyard or the house. He was fierce about protecting his home, and woe to anyone who came to the front door. They had to contend with Tucker at the window, and we couldn't open the door, because he wanted to make sure we were protected. He never bit anyone that I know of, but just the same, this was HIS house and he was going to rule it. No one ever came inside. I felt safe with Tucker here and loved him for it.
We were greeted every morning by Tucker's trademark "Roo", telling us "Good Morning! Time to go out! Time to eat! Time to play!" I remember one day when I was just coming home and heard him rooing at me outside the door. I said "Tucker!" and he went "ruh". It was so funny, but so characteristic of him to recognize my voice. As he started to get older, Tucker loved to sleep on Jason's bed. At first, Jason would kick him off. But after a while, he just let him sleep there, unhindered by the little ones who loved to jump on him. He loved Jason's bed, and he loved the loveseat in the living room with his afghan on it. We didn't mind him sleeping there. He'd earned it.
Mealtime for Tucker consisted of eating everything we gave him and everything he could get from the other dogs. It's safe to say that he ate about three cans of dog food daily, and all the kibble he could get. He was a tank. He grew to be the strongest dog I'd ever had. Not bad for the runt of the litter. But Tucker started to slow down in the last year, and it he was about to take a turn that none of us expected.
One morning we awoke to hear Tucker crying out in pain. We ran out of our bedrooms to see him lying on the padded bed in the hallway, trying to get up, but in obvious pain. We helped him up and got him outside. Over the next few days, the strength in his hind legs gave out, not strong enough to hold his 72 pounds. We took him to the vet and was told that he had a ruptured disk and had to be put down or have $3000 surgery. I didn't believe it and we took him home with steroids. The steroids worked for the first few days and then he got worse. I took him back in to the vet, who put him on massive painkillers and steroids. He wanted to keep Tucker for a few days. I slept peacefully that night, knowing that Tucker was in good hands. Or so I thought.
I made a surprise visit the next day to find Tucker in the worst possible conditions. He had been heavily sedated (of which I didn't approve) and in a cement cell with only a small blanket for warmth. They had not given him our clothes, his pillow, his blanket or his ball for comfort. They had catheterized him, which I also did not approve. I took him out of there immediately and brought him home, where I knew he would be well cared for 24/7. And he was. He was in far better comfort at home and he loved being there. But he couldn't walk... he couldn't run... he couldn't even get up. We had to carry him outside to potty, and had to tend to his every need. Eventually, he couldn't hold his potty anymore and I knew we were going to have to make a decision soon.
On Sunday, February 28, 2011, we knew he couldn't take anymore. It was a family decision to put Tucker out of his pain. Tucker said goodbye to all of us one at a time, by licking our faces or hands. We cried with him, but knew that he was at the point of no return. We found a wonderful emergency vet, who was kind to both Tucker and us. Steve and I told them to give Tucker a sedative so he wouldn't be in pain when he died. But he knew I was with him, because when I talked to him, he blinked hard and shivered a bit. Tucker passed very peacefully at 11:55am and our lives are forever changed.
The house seems so empty now. Even with 4 dogs and 4 cats, there is no commanding presence like Tucker. It will take us a long time to come to terms with him not being here. He enriched our lives so much, that it's hard to know what to do without all the love he gave us. He will be forever missed. We are picking up his ashes on Wednesday, and we will have him back with us, but it won't be the same. We will always miss his "Roo". We will miss calling him "Moron". But most of all, we will miss his kisses. Jason keeps his afghan on his bed. Tucker was a smell, and the afghan smells just like him. What a great dog. Our own Marley.
To those that understand about dogs, thank you. For those that don't... for those that say this is the reason they don't have dogs, because it hurts so much when they leave us, I say this... how empty your life must be. Tucker enriched our lives so very much. We are better people for having him as part of our family. Yes, it hurts that he's gone, but he lived. My, how he lived! He was happy and loved. He had all the love he could ever want for, and he gave as much in return. I'm gonna miss that old boy. I miss him already.
Nazdrovie'
Paczki Puta, Tucker's Mom
