07/30/2026
❤️🩹 If you ever had the pleasure of meeting Tucker, then you knew what unconditional love looked like.
Tucker was the kind of dog who loved everyone instantly. He never had a mean bone in his body. The second you laid down on the couch, he’d come sprinting over to snuggle up beside you. Damn did he love to snuggle. We used to joke that if someone ever broke into our house, our big, scary pit bull would probably say, “Take whatever you want... just snuggle with me for five minutes before you leave.”
Tucker lived to be 12½ years old, longer than I ever expected, but somehow still not nearly long enough. He met and fiercely loved all three of our children.
I’ll miss the couch snuggles. I’ll even miss getting frustrated when you’d try to charge through the front door the second it opened. I’ll miss looking under the dinner table and seeing you patiently waiting for a crumb to fall. Most of all, I’ll miss simply having you there.
You never asked why someone needed you. You never judged. You never held a grudge. You never said no. You just loved.
As a veterinarian, I’ve had the privilege of helping thousands of families say goodbye to their best friends. I always thought that would somehow make this day easier when it was my turn.
It didn’t.
The grief is just as deep. The silence in the house is just as loud. The hole they leave behind is just as impossible to fill.
I know you’re in a better place, running around with my dad and Nala. I can only hope the three of you found each other.
But damn, this hurts.
I miss you so much. Maggie misses you. The kids miss you.
Thank you for 12½ incredible years, buddy. You gave us far more than we could ever give you.
Rest easy, my friend.
Until we meet again. ❤️🩹🐾
