It was weekend after the 9/11 terror attacks.  The whole country was still in shock, but life went on.  My ex-wife, Nancy, asked me to go to the pet store to get some dog food for my german shepherd, Nikki.

I came home with Tucker.

Nancy was upset with me at first, but I jokingly told her that I stuck to the list.  I had brought home "dog" and "food".  That weekend was the monthly "animal rescue" show, where dogs and cats sat huddled in wire cages, waiting for adoption.  Tucker was sitting in one of the cages, and had this kind of "aware but reserved" look about him.  He was merely observing, and not exhibiting the desperate barking and whining of other puppies.  For being only 8 weeks old, he was already showing some smarts.

I walked past the cages of puppies, ignoring their pleas for help, in spite of the softer side of me wanting to take them all home.  I'm a dog person, and it breaks my heart to see an unloved dog.  But, I already had two dogs at home, and they were hungry, so past the cages I went, in search of food.

But then Tucker spotted me, and suddenly stood up and barked at me.  He had made his choice and wasn't about to let me pass by unnoticed.  He, it seems, had immediately adopted me.  And so it was that this dog, a cross between a Belgian Shepherd and an Akita, became part of our pack.

He integrated very well with the other dogs, but it was Nancy that he took a special liking to.  Constantly at her side, he was a "leaner."  Even as she took him through obedience training, Tucker wouldn't sit up straight like the other dogs.  He would do everything else perfectly, hand signals, instant command obedience, etc.  He even mastered protection training, and was able to put on the face of a ferocious defender in an instant, and just as quickly become a loving, face-licking puppy at a single command.  But he needed to constantly touch Nancy.  Always.  So when he sat next to her, he would lean against her leg, and lovingly look up to her.  We collectively gave up on teaching him to "sit up right"...he refused to obey that one command because of his love.

He constantly demonstrated unbridled cleverness as well.  Often we would put him in a "down-stay" on his favorite pillow in our wood-floored living room.  He would obey faithfully, until he wanted to play with another dog, or move up next to Nancy, at which point he would use his hind legs to slide himself and the pillow across the floor.  He would look at me as if to say, "Hey, I'm obeying you...technically".

He was a dog of great beauty as well, with soft fur and very strong muscles.  When he ran at full speed, you'd think a herd of horses was galloping at you.  Pretty impressive for a 65 pound dog.  In tall grass, he would leap like a gazelle, bounding with a ceaseless energy, and clearly taking delight at his power over gravity.  But even with all that strength, he was a "high maintenance" dog emotionally.  He needed to constantly touch you and be petted.  He would lie in your lap for hours as long as you were petting him.  If you stopped, he'd sit up and give you "face snuffles" or nibble on your ear to get you petting him again.  Tucker loved with all his heart, and often asked for the same in return.  And Nancy never disappointed him.

A few months ago, things started going wrong.  He started losing weight, and then had a bad reaction to some antibiotics the vet gave him.  He recovered, but his weight wasn't coming back.  A few weeks ago, the vet diagnosed him with a pancreatic failure.  In effect, although he had an appetite, his body wasn't digesting the food.  He was starving to death on a full stomach.  The vet prescribed some special powder to add to his food, but there was no appreciable effect.  Tucker's body was gaunt, his ribcage and hip bones were clearly sticking out, his eyes were sunken, and he was beginning to lose his muscle mass.

Nancy took Tucker in to the vet on Saturday to see what else could be done, but the news was worse.  His body had started to shut down, and very shorly would start having internal organ failure.  Nancy was faced with a choice no pet owner wants, and agonizingly decided that he needed to go to a better place.  At 12:15, Tucker took his last breath, while Nancy held him to her telling him how much she loved him.  He left this world the way he always wanted, touching his momma and looking in her eyes.

He lived a life that every dog would want, being loved from the beginning to the end, and loving right back in return. But at a mere 4 years old, Tucker's time here was far too short.

So long, Tucker.  We love you.