Sad Passing of Tuckerman RIP

[The Feathered Hat]

Thank you.

We are... well, it's still very difficult. Last night was our first night coming home from work without Tuck and Polly both there to greet us at the door, and Cindy and I were overcome by sadness. It's going to take a long, long time for our hearts not to sink whenever we return home. This isn't fair to Polly, who has been steadfast and wonderful throughout this terrible ordeal, but I'm afraid it's the truth.

Last night I remembered a wonderful moment with Tuckerman. It was on our first real hike together, back in February 2009; he was just five months old. We climbed up to Bald Peak, below North Kinsman, in fresh, beautiful snow. He had been so good on our little training walks that I let him off-lead for the first time. As it happened, we broke out the quarter-mile spur to the peak that day in about a foot of powder. After enjoying the view at the peak for a few minutes we began our descent, and Tuck took off like a shot into the snow, roaring down the trail over our fresh snowshoe tracks and crashing headlong into the powder at the bottom of a little pitch -- he came up smiling from floppy ear to floppy ear and immediately did it again. And again. He gave me, that day, a show of unbridled, unhindered joy; I'd never seen joy like that, so pure and purely expressed, in my life. It was the happiest I've ever seen another living being.

I will never forget it, even if the memory will now always catch in my throat. Tuck gave me a wonderful gift that day and it deserves, like all great gifts, honor and place of pride in one's life. And so it has in mine.

Tuckerman never lost his love of snow, so he was happy when we all discovered that Polly loves the snow as much as he did. Here are three photos of the two of them from the winter of 2009-2010 expressing that pure happiness that's so elusive for we mere humans:

We will always miss our Tuck, our Big, Big Boy, but at the same time we are filled, always, with his generous, abundant gifts of love and joy. He taught us more about how to be human than we could ever teach ourselves.

 

[Maddy]

What a beautiful, poignant tribute to "Tuck"!

 

[TrishandAlex]

Steve, your tributes to Tuckerman, here and on your Facebook page, are beautiful.

I'm repeating myself from what I wrote to you earlier, but the same words keep coming to mind as there's precious little one can say to take the immense hurt out of this situation. I've loved ten cats and one dog in my life, not including the four animals in my home right now and the many I knew the years I worked in a rescue shelter. Each life was unique and each death was a horrible blow. Tuckerman was special, he was a close member of your family and a respected trail dog. I wish there was something we could do to take the pain away. I'm glad you are in the midst of folks who care about you and who understand what you're going through. Keep those posts coming, they're such an honor to Tuckerman.

Peace to you, Cindy, Polly and Attitash.

 

[forestgnome]

Sorry for the loss of a beloved family member and friend. He was adorable.

 

[Silverfox]

Steve , your heartfelt words say it all on more..thanks for sharing and know that I will miss my namesake out on the trails...

 

[chipc]

He taught us more about how to be human than we could ever teach ourselves.

A wonderful truth! My condolences.

 

[The Unstrung Harp]

Aw, I totally love the snowy pics.

 

[The Feathered Hat]

Thank you, everyone. Truly. Thank you from the center of my heart.

These past days the White Mountains hiking community has overwhelmed my wife Cindy, our steadfast dog Polly, me, and the memory and spirit of Tuckerman with an immeasurable bounty of generosity, support, and love. You have made one of the worst weeks of our lives bearable; more than that, even, you have provided us with the goodness we need to move forward, step by step, deeper into these beautiful mountains and into our lives. Thank you.

I don't believe one ever really heals from a terrible loss. We merely learn, in time, how to carry it. You all have demonstrated to our little family that we won't ever have to bear the awful weight of this loss alone. I do not have words to adequately express how much that means to us.

We love you. Tuckerman loves you.

 

[TDawg]

We have never met, Steve. But I have enjoyed a report or two from you and your boy Tuck. I can truly relate with the sadness and emptiness felt when a loved pet is taken abruptly. It sucks, I really feel for you. I love dogs.

May each day be easier than the last...take care.

 

[erugs]

I don't believe one ever really heals from a terrible loss. We merely learn, in time, how to carry it. You all have demonstrated to our little family that we won't ever have to bear the awful weight of this loss alone. I do not have words to adequately express how much that means to us.

This is so true. I love the photo of Tuck and Polly running without care through the new snow.

I once read this line: "Sorrow is not forever, Love is." and want it to be true. The hurt of loss only dulls slightly, I've found. The only good that comes from it seems to be learning that others feel similarly and for me that is a bonding which is good for all. None of us are really alone when we've shared such strong feelings.

I'll say it now: Tay, my beautiful tri-colored collie. You helped me through my teenage years and you loved being with me as much as I loved being with you. Sunny, you taught me gentleness of spirit, and how to follow together. Kelly (a cat), you taught me that I won't grow tired of caring for another being, and that you were brave enough to have bold adventures such as riding on a motorcycle and on the MBTA. There were others, but those are my top three.

Love to all.