Saying Goodbye

On the death of my best friend

It is with enormous sadness that I report the passing of not only a much loved family pet but my best friend. Like so many things in our lives, Tucker was supposed to be temporary. A brief period of puppy raising before he went off to join the American Seeing Eye Dog programme. Like so many things in our lives, things didn’t work out as planned. It’s a horrible cliché to say ‘he had a good life’ but on sorting through my old photographs I find I have almost as many of him as of my children, and there are two of them.

As an American Labrador he never got to that sleepy overweight contentment achieved by most English Labrador breeds by the age of 2. Not Tucker. The same breed as the famous Marley he lived in a state of perpetual puppyhood where, certainly until the age of 10 he had boundless energy, boundless appetite and a slightly unhealthy obsession with tennis balls. But that’s true of many dogs.

However, my dog:

  • Has lived in 3 countries in 9 different houses
  • Got a ticket for walking off leash on a deserted beach
  • Hospitalised two people who thought they could get to a stick faster than he could
  • Played ball for so long his legs stopped working
  • Swam in a lake for so long his tail went faulty
  • Didn’t get banned from the largest British Embassy in the world for repeatedly ‘watering’ the Ambassadors flowers
  • But did get banned when he chased an African Ambassador down the corridor causing a small diplomatic incident
  • Taken a poop in the middle of BWI Airport, just after being asked to leave by a security guard
  • Taken a poop right next to the meat counter of Freshfields supermarket
  • Barked loudly and repeatedly at the cinema during a showing of Elf
  • Impersonated a seeing eye dog on many occasions, almost all ending badly
  • Caused a security incident when leaping out of a car window at Fort Mead thinking the rifle toting gate guards wanted to play stick
  • Saved a cats life
  • Adopted a kitten
  • Lead a multi year battle to catch a beaver (he didn’t)
  • Chased innumerable white tail deer (FAIL), sheep (FAIL), cows (WIN)
  • Was cornered in a field by cows and licked into submission
  • Got lost on Dartmoor
  • Played football (in goal) with almost every member of Manchester United Soccer Club (in New Hampshire) and saved every ball
  • Broke into the postmans van, opened his lunch bag and ate his sandwiches while the postman was getting a letter signed for
  • Stole sausages right out of the back of the Asda van
  • Discovered chickens squeak when you stand on them
  • Made friends with a rabbit
  • Was afraid of nothing except, thunder, fireworks, black plastic and working sheepdogs

    Tucker’s career was prematurely slowed by the cruel genetic disease, degenerative myelopathy that resulted in him eventually being unable to walk unaided. He spent last night on our bed, snoring. He went to sleep this morning for the last time in his own bed, surrounded by his family, full of treats. It was enormously sad and we sat there trying to cheer ourselves up by thinking of the most embarrassing place he’d pooped in. Catherine noted that in the 12 years we’ve had him, he’s pooped almost everywhere but (notwithstanding the Ambassadors flowers) has never had an improper wee. Almost at that very moment, he ate a treat, peed on my hand and closed his eyes. Greater joy hath no dog than this.