Tucker Jackson Beagle

My heart is broken.

A month ago, I started noticing that my dog, Tucker, was losing interest in his food. This is particularly problematic because my other dog, Madison, has an appetite that knows no bounds...so I was constantly having to play referee to make sure she didn't eat two meals at each feeding.

At first I could coax Tucker to eat by adding a few treats to the meal. When that stopped working, I added sprinkle cheese. When that stopped working, I brought him to the vet. He suggested we try some medicines that coat the stomach in the event it was an ulcer or something.  I tried that for a week, but eventually he stopped accepting the cheese and peanut butter I tried to hide the pills in.

I had some success for awhile by heating up chicken broth and pouring it over his food, but eventually that stopped working too. So we went back to the vet.  X-rays showed a sizable mass in his abdomen.  An ultrasound taken a few days later confirmed the mass was a cavitated tumor on his spleen, as well as lesions on his liver.

Tucker was diagnosed with hemangiosarcoma, a highly malignant cancer with a very poor prognosis. Given his age (Tucker was 12.5), and given that the cancer had already spread, surgery was not an option. The other horrible thing about this cancer is there is a risk of the tumor rupturing, leading to sudden and severe hemorrhaging, and rapid death. My dog was a ticking time bomb.

Unwilling to let him suffer any longer, and unwilling to risk the tumor rupturing, we had Tucker euthanized last night.  It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. My husband and I both cried like babies as we watched him take his final breath.

My facebook tribute to the best dog I've ever known:

Today, with heavy hearts and eyes full of tears, we said good-bye to an amazing dog. Born January 11, 2002, Tucker Jackson Beagle proved right from the start that he was something special. 

At 3 months old, Tucker impressed us all by doing his business in a hole by a fence so as to avoid the unpleasantness of anybody stepping in it. He continued to show that same courtesy throughout his life, and when the cancer began to take hold at the very end, Tucker would still manage to seek out the most remote corners of the house whenever he got sick. 

Tucker proved time and again that he was no ordinary beagle. We were told to never let a beagle off leash during walks -- that he might catch scent of something and take off -- that we might never find him. Well, Tucker was let off leash often, and he never once strayed far from my side. 

We were told that beagles were small dogs (it was one of the selling points for JP when we finally decided to get a dog). Well, Tucker stood over 17 inches tall at the shoulders, and weighed 54 lbs at one point (he was put on a diet shortly thereafter). 

One day, his doggy day care provider sent home this simple note: "Today, Tucker reminded me just how smart a dog could be." I never did find out what it was he did, but it makes me chuckle to this day.  
 
Tucker was my constant companion on countless walks through the foggy hills of San Francisco, and along the quiet seaside streets of New Jersey. He followed me everywhere -- EVERYWHERE -- years went by before I finally had some privacy in the bathroom. 

It was hard to be mad at Tucker, though. He had a knack for knowing when you needed extra love.  Following my two miscarriages, he made a point to snuggle in extra close, refusing to leave my side. One of the best things about Tucker is that he did this for everyone, not just me. If anyone sat down on our couch, he would crawl into their lap, whether they wanted him to or not. 

Tucker never took "no" for an answer when it came to his job as a lap dog, and in the process, he managed to wiggle his way into everyone's hearts.  Paraphrasing the words of a Frenchman who used to take care of him when we were away: "Tucker is not beagle. Tucker is people."  RIP Tucker. You are missed. Terribly, and forever. 

How I lucked out to have such an amazing dog in my life I'll never know. Thank you for all the great memories, all the snuggles, and all the laughs. Until we meet again, my friend. Until we meet again. RIP Tucker.