This blog is not for the light-hearted or easily offended. If either one of those descriptions applies to you, i would suggest you start drinking before you read this blog. A sense of humor is suggested. If you don't have one that sucks for you … find one and get a life!

In which Tucker fakes his own death

I’ve had plenty of funny conversations this week but unfortunately, I can’t seem to remember a single one of them.  That’s been happening more and more often lately.  There’s a small window of opportunity and if I miss it, wham, the entire thought is gone out of my head.  It used to be that Kevin was fairly adept at recalling the conversations but apparently, he’s going as brain dead as I am so now we’re both stupid.  I explained to him that that wasn’t part of the deal but he no longer remembers what the deal was so it is what it is.


At any rate, I wanted to tell you today about my dog Tucker.  You may recall him from the most excellent post entitled “Tucker and the Turkey” also known as “the best birds and bees speech ever.”  If you don’t remember that or you haven’t read it, you should, but let’s continue on with this thought process.


Tucker is a bit of a fucked up dog.  We got him at 4 months and he was pretty mentally “damaged” from the get go.  Afraid of his own shadow, afraid of people, he spends his life following me from room to room and sleeping under the bed or the coffee table.  So we’ve had Tucker for about 9 years and he’s adorable but not your typical dog.  Last fall, he started behaving weirdly… even for him.


We noticed that he seemed anxious, well more anxious than usual, and he seemed to be shedding a lot.  One day, when I brought him in to be “pretty boyed”, or what you would refer to as “groomed” the vets called me and told me that they were concerned about him.  Now, they loved Tucker at the vets because he’s very cute and he’s also very, very sweet but he was behaving abnormally.


Apparently, as they were grooming him, his back legs kept collapsing on him.  They asked permission to do a physical.  Of course I agreed and it turned out that Tucker had a massive tumor on his thyroid.  They did blood work and x-rays and told me it looked like an invasive tumor that would kill him and that his symptoms were in line with a tumor that had progressed to his brain.


Of course, I was upset and after some thought; we decided that it wouldn’t be fair to keep him alive if he were so agitated and unstable.  After Daniel got home from school (the girls were in college at the time), we went up to the vets to say “good bye” to Tucker.  When they brought him in the room he perked up and actually seemed pretty good.


“What’s going on?” I asked.


“Apparently, the anti-inflammatories that we gave him have really helped him” they replied.


“What should I do?” I asked.


They told me that they could do an MRI but it would cost about $1600 and I asked them if there was anything they could do about the situation anyways.


“No” they replied.



They felt that since he wasn’t in pain, that perhaps we should give him the anti-inflammatory for a week or so and see what happened.   At the time, he was having trouble walking and he couldn’t even jump up on the couch by himself; we had to lift him.


So, we took Tucker home and basically decided to make his last days the best.  And by the best I mean, we gave him milk and cookies.  See, Tucker loves the Heath Bar Crunch cookies from The Fresh Market to we gave him as many cookies as he wanted, fed him from the table, and let him finish the milk from the cereal bowls.  You name it; if he wanted it he got it.


So a few weeks go by and Tucker gets better and better.  Pretty soon, I wasn’t even giving him the anti-inflammatories anymore and although he still has this GIGANTIC tumor on his neck, he’s back to normal.  EXCEPT… he isn’t.


Because NOW, 8 months later he expects to eat EVERY TIME WE EAT.  The minute Kevin starts eating his cereal Tucker is barking for his milk as if to say, “Why the fuck can’t you eat faster?”  He wants MILK…and COOKIES…and STEAK…and basically he spends his life barking at us.


In the morning if we don’t go to feed him fast enough he’s giving us dirty looks and barking like “what the hell are you selfish humans doing taking a god damned shower when I want your milk?”  So yeah, he’s a spoiled brat.


But this morning? TOOK THE CAKE.  Seriously…we walked into the kitchen and there, in the middle of the floor, was a box of doggie biscuits, a box that had previously resided in the PANTRY.  Apparently, in the middle of the night Tucker decided he wanted a little snack and walked into the pantry, dragged out the box and proceeded to make the opening that had been the size of MY ARM just a little larger so that his ENTIRE head could fit in there.


Yeah, my dog is now a binge eater and helps himself to an entire box of dog biscuits when he wants a snack.  I looked at him and said “Tucker, I can’t believe you.  You faked your own death and now you just help yourself around here!”


Of course, he looked at me with those big brown eyes and then he started barking.  Seriously, he’s such a pain in the ass now that I told Kevin that I was going to “put him to sleep just so he’d shut the hell up!”


Kevin told me I was “terrible” which yeah, I already know that.  But I’m sitting here in the office at my computer, typing up this post and Tucker is on his little cushion under the desk, just chilling with me.  I probably need to go make sure he didn’t open up the freezer and eat my “chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.”


So people? If they tell you your dog is dying … don’t start being nice because it could be that your dog is faking his own death.  I mean, mine did!


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  1. Lady Estrogen
    June 13, 2011

    Hahaha… ohh, how they rule our world. Ack.
    Mine aren’t even remotely dying (of natural causes, anyway) but Brutus is a binge eater too. He’s skinny but eats everything and anything as if it were his last meal.

    Also, ‘chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream’? Those are my 6 favorite words, ever. Or, you can replace ‘ice cream’ with ‘blizzard’ and it’s my 5 most favorite words, ever.

    • Lynn
      June 13, 2011

      Yeah…but he won’t even let us eat now. He expects about 10 meals a day!

  2. Alison@Mama Wants This
    June 13, 2011

    Hahahahaha! I love this post.

    Tucker had you fooled Lynn.

    He’s really an evil genius.

    • Lynn
      June 13, 2011

      Yeah…i suppose i’ll be laughing about it until he dies and since he does have a gigantic tumor, who knows when that’ll be.

  3. Evil_Cat_Grrl
    June 13, 2011

    Our dog went the opposite way.

    Once she turned 15 years old, she stopped eating whatever brand dog kibble we were feeding her (I can’t remember; something that the vet assured us was at least semi-nutritious). The vet suggested that we get her this ulta-nutritious canned food that had, like chicken and pork and beef and rice in it (the dog was eating better than we were)…

    And she wouldn’t touch the stuff. The only thing we could get her to eat was Alpo, which the vet said was like us eating MacDonald’s for all our meals, but that she was an old dog and she’d had a good life and if she wanted to go out on Alpo…it wasn’t going to do her any harm at this point.

    One of the big cans lasted two days, so we’d keep the other half in the fridge and Dad would warm it up the next meal for her…my sister said that was disgusting, and they’d get into arguments over whether *she’d* want *her* food cold out of the fridge…

    Tucker sounds awesome.

    • Lynn
      June 13, 2011

      Tucker is awesome and i’m going to be so sad when he dies but still, i need to make fun of him because that’s what i do.

      I hate canned dog food..Tucker eats dry food…and people food. LOTS AND LOTS OF PEOPLE FOOD

  4. karen
    June 13, 2011

    Sunshine isn’t a binge eater, but she is a master manipulator. She is old (11 years old) and acts like she’s all pitiful and granny-like to get attention, but the minute she gets it she turns into a puppy again and wants to play and rough-house with you and tear-asses around the house like a crazy dog.

    Playing possum….classic doggie manipulation. Pure genius

    • Lynn
      June 13, 2011

      Yeah, Tucker got into some bad habits when we thought he had weeks to live and now it’s been 8 months…sheesh

  5. FranceRants
    June 13, 2011

    Well at least the milk and cookies are much cheaper than an MRI….

    And I pretty much admitted to feeling a bit like an ass for watching RHNJ :)

    • Lynn
      June 13, 2011

      yeah, everything is cheaper than an MRI…he’s dying…who cares what else is going on in my opinion…

  6. Name *
    June 13, 2011

    Tucker is cool.
    Tucker is neat.
    He knows how to be shifty and steal doggie treats!
    Lynn treat him well.
    Lynn treat him kind.
    Or he’ll shit in your shoes…
    And that just wouldn’t be right!
    Yo, Tucker has soooooo got ur number, Lynn! hahahaha

    • M.J. Putnik
      June 13, 2011

      Oh, that was Everyone Knows Me Here to pull on your chain. Have a great day ;)

      • Lynn
        June 13, 2011

        Nice poem…we’ll work on your poetry after a few drinks next week…i rock at little jingles

  7. Katja Brown
    June 13, 2011

    Dogs are the best companions! We love our 4-year-old “Heinz 57” mix that we got at the Guilford County Animal Shelter.

    Would seriously miss him when he is gone!

    • Lynn
      June 13, 2011

      Yeah…I do love Tucker but he is seriously a pain in the ass

  8. Don E. Chute
    June 14, 2011

    Man what a story!

    Have you every considered nicknaming Tucker…Pavlov?

    When the shoe fits…
    Hope he continues to eat and do well.

    Aloha FSSF!

    • Lynn
      June 14, 2011

      Tucker is completely Pavlovian as seen by Tucker and the Turkey

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