I realize it's been awhile since my last post and wanted to explain.
Unfortunately, one of my dogs hasn't been doing so well lately and on Friday we had to put him down. It's never easy to loose a loved one, even a pet, but in the end it sometimes is the last act of love you can do for them. The end is always difficult but after fourteen years, it's easy to remember the good times.
I was a teenager when my family got Tucker, an adorable soft coated wheaten terrier, from a breeder in Michigan. As soon as we stepped into the yard, we were overwhelmed by jumping, wiggling, furry bodies begging to be petted and held. After maybe an hour of playing with the cutest brown and black balls of fur, the breeder held out one with a dark blue ribbon and introduced us to our newest family member. We spent hours trying to come up with a name that appealed to all of us, the puppy sleeping without a care after hours of playing. Finally, my dad looked at the resting body and exclaimed, "That dog is really tuckered out." and that was it, Tucker.
He was so tiny at first, he slept under the ridge on the bottom of the kitchen cabinets, and of course, in my room. The first couple nights were rough. He cried all night long and left barely any time for sleep, until I came up with the idea to sleep with him on the floor. He cuddled into me and fell asleep right away. Although I adored him before, I think that was the moment I fell in love.
Leaving him to go to college was hard. My parents bought me a wheaten stuffed animal and placed his puppy collar around it's neck so he'd always be around me in some small way. I remember him running to the door to greet me whenever I came home, his tail furiously wagging as he jumped up and down as if he couldn't get close enough. The whole summer after graduation, he followed me around as if fearing I'd disappear.
He gave me fourteen years of loyalty and unwavering love. It was easy to give him my love in return. He had a good life and remembering all the good times makes the end easier.
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