farewell to our most faithful friend

this one short post will not be about africa - right at the moment my heart is transported back to toronto, canada, and so i write you from there. my (our) sweet little tucker has died. apparently yesterday afternoon, during an operation to investigate some tuomors that were recently discovered.

only about six weeks ago, he was being his silly self, and no one was any the wiser that anything would change for some years to come. we spent a day at the park in cambridge, ma, throwing a frisbee around with tucker gleefully racing after a few of the low passes (particularly those ones we missed), thinking the toy was for him - he caught them pretty well too and would prance around proudly ... there are still tucker-teeth marks in my frisbee
(it's a a heavy-duty frisbee too - that dog has a strong jaw!)
if only i had pictures from all of these moments. i realized that i did not take enough pictures of that beautiful sweet dog. most mornings in cambridge i would wake up to find him curled up right beside the bed in the closest spot he could be to my head... (where i was sure to step on him if i was not careful!)... and even though michael would shut the door of our bedroom each night, in the early hours of the morning, tucker would push it open and come over to his special spot - just to be close (he would stay sleeping if i got up to go to the bathroom, but once i moved into the kitchen, he would follow - knowing his breakfast was sure to be coming soon!)another favourite of mine was tucker's dreaming moments - the ones where i'm sure he was chasing something great - either a scent or a litle squirrel: he would be lying stretched out on his side, front paws crossed gently... and then those paws would begin to twitch ever so slightly, then a little more. then you'd hear his nails softly scraping the ground; then his hind legs would join in, gently jerking as if he was running in a field. sometimes soft whimpering noises could be heard. sometimes i couldn't help but to quietly reassure him - but i'm quite sure those noises were actually ones of excitement and happiness.

tucker was the best dog. he was better than we could have asked for. he never barked. seriously. the ONLY times anything like a bark occurred were when he would let out a single little yelp if we'd forgotten him outside (say, after letting him out to pee...). once he howled - it was beautiful: we were at the park in ottawa and a few other dogs were around when one husky started howling this long, haunting sound... and then slowly the other dogs joined in. tucker was quiet for most of the time, but eventually he too managed a soft, low, grumbly howl (like he wasn't quite sure if he had a voice, like it was quite rusty from disuse, but tenderly he worked it to produce the beautiful sound)... i was so impressed. it was beautiful (perhaps because that was the single instance - and it was a pack of dogs, together invoking some nearly forgotten ancestral roots)oh tucker i miss you.

you gave the best kisses (if slightly gross when caught on the face) - on demand too!

you always greeted everyone new with your "blanket" (really, a ratty old towel) gleefully stuffed in your mouth and a rapidly wagging tail (which often swung in a lopsided circle, rather than side to side). you were always hoping someone just might want to tug on that towel with you! if you didn't have a towel, then it was any of your favourite toys that you would bring as an offering.

tucker, you were the gentlest, kindest soul. your eyes said it all. you got more compliments than any dog i know. everyone agreed how handsome you were, how well-behaved you were, ... what a wonderful dog we had! (and how true it all was!)

eleven years ago you were just a pint-sized little puppy, with big paws and a belly full of worms (this was quickly rectified! - the worms i mean...).
tucker's love of food (any and all) was eipc. though he never swiped things off the counter, a muffin or a cookie hiding in an open bag on the floor and left out for some time would end up in tucker's belly - bag and all. it all came out in the wash (so to speak). and we were a little leaner for being spared those few sweets. tucker's love of food meant that if i peeled a cucumber, i would usually save a few large hunks of peel to send his way and make his day. a few of the imperfect baby carrots i would find when packing a lunch would also "jump" from my hands, to his delight. because of his love of food (and willingness to do anything for it), nick was able to teach tucker to "roll-over" - a skill he executed with some humour, as it took a lot of space, the right kind of flooring (no slippery wood) and just the right amount of momentum to get himself all the way over. he was a large 75-lb dog. sometimes he wouldn't quite make it over - but after attempting, he'd still sit up proudly and expectantly wait for his treat.

such a beautiful boy.
tuckie, we all miss you so much.
thank you for all the joy you brought to our lives.
you were the greatest companion.
eternal love, bear hugs, and sloppy/smoochy kisses to you in your new place.
xoxox
your family