Yeah, I wasn't sure if I wanted to put this up or not, but I figure if I'm going to give any kind of representation of my life on this thing, the bad stuff has to go up, too, right? *sigh*... My mom called this morning. My dog died yesterday. Didn't look like he'd been in any pain or anything, but it seems like he probably got into something poisonous. We don't know. Tucker was the coolest dog, and even though I haven't seen him in like six months because I haven't been home, I'm really gonna miss him. Yeah...
Tucker was... he was crazy. A lot like me. He'd go after stuff with such a single minded pursuit that he'd practically walk into trees because he wouldn't notice they were there when he was stalking a ground squirrel or something. He loved water, any kind. He'd swim in the river when Dad would let him. He tore up a hose on one of Dad's center pivots because he was leaping at the spray of water. Never said he was the smartest dog in the world... He was always too scared of livestock to herd them, though he tried a couple times, border collie to the core.. so instead he herded people whenever we'd let him. He was the traditional border black-and-white, one white foot, white face and chest, and a white ruff that was such a thin line it was usually hidden under the black fur. He was a farm dog. His fur was always filled with burrs and he picked up a tick or two every week during the summer because he loved to run around in our windbreak. His tail was so bushy that the black fur actually hid the white tail tip. He was always ready to play, loved to chase anything you'd throw for him. He'd always meet you at the car when you got home, tail wagging, happy as anything that you were back. He knew a few commands, but what use does a farm dog have for fancy manners? Maybe he couldn't shake, or roll over, or play dead, but he knew how to 'get out of there' and when to move away so you could shut the car door, and he knew how to 'go find Dad' out at the shed... All the things a farm dog needs to know. I'm gonna miss him.
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