I was digging around in my one of my old college sketchbooks and found this drawing of our old family dog, Tuck.
Not to date myself, but I would have drawn this is 2003. Or 2004, or something. Finding this sketch brought a smile to my face.
Tuck was our family dog since I was in 4th grade. A beautiful golden retriever who loved EVERYBODY. And that face. Velvety soft and adorable. A sweet, sweet (albeit stinky) pooch. COMPLETELY happy and satisfied if he could be near (read: laying or leaning ON) the ones that he loved.
But....he was an idiot.
Oh Tuck, let me count the ways of your idiocy.
- Afraid of water. Yes that's right, a golden retriever who was afraid of water.
- Could not catch anything for the life of him. Things simply bounced off his face.
- Walked to the window to growl every now and then at NOTHING, but wouldn't notice if someone actually came to the door. (And no he wasn't deaf. .....Except towards the end of his life. When he did in fact become deaf.)
- Peed when he got excited. On guests, when they came to visit. One time in someone's face. Try to figure that one out.
- Licked everything constantly. Things like the curtains. Or your jeans.
- Ran away EVERY SINGLE CHANCE HE GOT. Oh Tuck, how many times did we chase you around the neighborhood trying in vain to lure you into the car with treats? (Let it be known here that Tuck had no reason to run away. We were perfectly wonderful doggie owners, I'm just sure of it. He just, really liked running, I guess. Can I get a Forest Gump?)
- And he shed A LOT. Oh Tuck, that hair. That hair everywhere.
Ok, that last one didn't have anything to do with his level of intelligence. But I thought I should still mention it.
But Tuck was greatly loved by our fam, all the same. He passed away a few years ago now, at the ripe old age of 15. I remember as a teenager having to wake up at theeee most ungodly of hours in order to make it on time to school, and I would usually pass through the living room towards the laundry room to try and find something to wear. On the way I would see Tuck curled up on the couch and in my zombie-like state I would find myself lured to his warm body. AND more often than not I would end up laying down and using him as a pillow for ten minutes or so before working up the will power to continue my journey to the laundry room. Life is hard when you're a teenager.
This one's for you, Ol' Tuck. Because of you, I will probably never have another dog. Love ya.