Hi, we're back! (Kind of!)

Hello to all our Blogosphere friends!  We know it's been FOREVER since we last blogged, but we are back now.  Well, kind of.  We won't be blogging here anymore, but you CAN come visit us HERE.

And we're just getting started over there, but we sure hope you'll stop by and see us sometime.

To everything there is a season ...

Hello, Blogosphere!  

It has been some time since we have posted ... and this has been due to a few different factors, but basically it comes down to a combination of being really busy, a little bit (maybe more than a little) lazy, and just generally uninspired.  So much so that I haven't even touched my camera in about two months.  I think I was getting frustrated, feeling that I wasn't making much progress, and just sort of quit trying.  I hope that will change, because taking pictures is something I really enjoy doing, and the good news is that even though I know I have a long way to go, I do at least have a handful of pictures of each of my companion animals that I truly treasure, and that I feel capture the essence of who they are as much as any still image ever could.  I am going out of town for the weekend to visit family and friends, and am taking my camera, so hopefully I'll feel inspired to pick it up, and maybe get a few good shots.  

Even though I haven't been blogging myself, though, I have been keeping up, at least sporadically, with most of your blogs, and just like "real life" there have been many times I have celebrated your joys and victories right along with you, and even raised a glass of wine to toast those of you who won't be toasting with anything but sparkling cider for awhile ... say about nine months ... while also shedding some tears, when news of the passing of a few of the Blogosphere's brightest stars reached me.   

In any case, as the saying goes, to everything there is a season, and as I had alluded to a few months back, I am beginning to feel like my blogging days, or at least this particular blog, might be coming to a close.  It may be that I'll stop blogging altogether, or maybe I'll just reinvent things a little.  I still haven't really decided, but I will let you know when I do.

Meanwhile, I'd like to reassure those who have emailed me to ask how things are going/how we are, that we are all fine.  A few highlights: 

Tucker turned ten years old in February.  About three weeks ago, he came in limping from a romp in the yard, and had it not been after hours I probably would have taken him to the vet right then, but as it was I decided to just wait and see, and by the next morning, although he was doing so gingerly, he was bearing weight, so I decided to wait a little longer.  By the following evening, he seemed to be completely fine, and has remained so.  He's still the best dog ever, in case anyone was wondering.  

Olivia will be turning nine years old in April.  She is still the reigning queen of Chez Tucker, and even though by rights since I pay the bills, I should wear the crown, I let her have it.  After all, she wears it so well.  

Tanner will be seven years old in early May, and is still fourteen muscular pounds of the handsomest, sweetest, most lovable man-cat I have ever had the pleasure to know.  As most of you know, he had a bit of a scare back in December where he had a partial urinary blockage, but he's had two checkups since then, and all seems to be well.    

Phoebe celebrated her 5th Gotcha Day in late February. For her present, she made me promise to sneak her in to a late night showing of Oz the Great and Powerful. I have not yet done so. 

Finn turned three years old in January. For a cat who I thought would have a very slim chance of making it to the six month mark with as initially sick as he was and as determined to risk his own neck pulling stupid stunts, he's not only survived, but has transformed into a stunningly beautiful adult cat.  His temperament is, as it has been from kitten-hood, mercurial ... he can go from saccharine sweet to super brat in a nanosecond, but I sure do love him.  

Murray the Betta fish was recently upgraded from a 2.5 gallon to a 5 gallon tank, and when that upgrade occurred he also got two very temporary tank-mates in the form of two African Dwarf frogs.  I got the frogs because I was told they were non-aggressive and would live in harmony with a single Betta.  This turned out to not be exactly true.  On the second day of cohabitation, one of the frogs (their names were Maude and Muriel, but I'm not sure which one was which, frankly) latched on to Murray's tail.  He was not pleased.  After a week of careful observation, I decided the best thing to do was to remove the frogs, and they are now living elsewhere.  I kind of hated to give them up, but I didn't have any more room at the office for another tank, and I didn't really want to bring them home.  If you don't know what African Dwarf frogs are, Google them and see if you can find some video on YouTube.  You wouldn't (at least I didn't) think frogs would be that cute, but these little frogs (they are about half an inch or so in length) were cute as the dickens, and when they'd get hungry, they would come to the front of the tank and just sort of hang there vertically with their little webbed feet dangling down and this look on their little froggy faces that essentially meant "hey, lady, how about tossing in some of those frozen blood worms right quick?"  In any event, they're living their froggy lives elsewhere, and Murray is now the king of his own tank again, and is much happier.  

And that, my friends, is all for now. Have a wonderful weekend!

For Remington

Yesterday was a sad day for us here at Tucker Tells All, when the news came of our buddy Remington's passing.

I don't think there are too many of you out there in the Blogosphere who didn't know Remington ... but if you did not get the chance to know him, you can visit his blog HERE

His humans Mike & Beth loved him very much, and he loved them, and pretty much everyone else, too, it seemed like.  He was on this earth only four short years, but he sure made them count. He had lots of adventures, made countless friends, and embodied the philosophy of living life to the fullest and making it count.  

Just looking at a picture of the big guy could make you smile, as he himself always seemed to be smiling.  To say his passing leaves a tremendous void, and that he will be greatly missed seems terribly inadequate, but sometimes words just aren't enough to say all you want or need to say.

So I think we'll just let Ann's beautiful artwork speak for itself:  

Happy Birthday, Finn!

Last Friday, the 18th, was Finn's 3rd birthday.  As with all of my animal companions, this "birthday" was a made up date, a date I assigned by taking the vet's best approximation of his age when I got him, and working backward from there.  It's probably not all that accurate, but it's as close as I can get, and while it may seem silly to a lot of people (though not, I would guess, to anyone reading this blog), it's important to me to mark these dates, to keep track of the passage of days, of years, and to celebrate and honor the tremendous amount of joy and love these special animals bring to my life.  

And so, last week, as I was kissing Finn on his little black nose, and wishing him a Happy Birthday, I couldn't help but think what a beautiful (er, handsome) specimen of a feline he has turned out to be.  

See what I mean? 

I mean ... really ... I know I am just a LITTLE BIT biased, and I certainly can't take credit ... but is that a gorgeous cat or what? 

He didn't start out that way, though.  He was the saddest, sickliest, most emaciated little thing I had ever seen, and I remember fearing that he would literally starve to death before I could trap him and get him to the vet.  It was a huge victory to get him successfully trapped in a Hav-A-Heart trap and to the vet, and of course to make sure he had plenty of nutritious food, but even after that, he struggled.  He was the very definition of feral, and it was close to a week before I could walk into the bathroom that was his isolation room and not have him be so terrified that he would quite literally climb the walls.  He had a terrible respiratory infection as well, that, even after several rounds of antibiotics, continued to linger, to the point that at one point our vet Dr. G. suspected a chest mass or some sort of anatomical anomaly rather than lingering infection, and recommended that his X-rays, which seemed to be clear, be evaluated by a specialist.  They were deemed normal, but for many months he was, while not exactly sick, not really well either.  He had nothing contagious, but he just didn't thrive, and despite his voracious appetite and several wormings, he could never gain weight and always looked scrawny and ill-fed.  

Around his first birthday, though, he started to turn around, and now, at three years old or thereabouts, he is healthy, vigorous and, in my opinion anyway, quite a looker to boot.  His once dull and lifeless coat is plush and glossy, with the sheen of well-polished patent leather shoes.  Sometimes I swear I could see my own reflection in his fur.  He's also an incredibly sweet and affectionate cat, with quite the entertaining personality.  He has an opinion about everything, and isn't afraid to voice it ... he "talks" more than any cat I've ever known, even Olivia, who is plenty "talkative" her own self.  

Three years ...

From this ... 

To this ... 

I've never made it a secret that three cats was not in my master plan.  Even-number-lover that I am, two dogs and two cats suited me just fine.  But try as I did to find him another home, it soon became clear that Finn was not going anywhere but home with me, where he has apparently made it his mission in life to prove to me that sometimes the gifts you didn't even know you wanted are the most precious of all. 

Happy (belated) birthday, Finnie!

Black & White Sunday #10 (Tucker)

Thanks to You Did What With Your Weiner, My Life In Blog Years, and Dachsund Nola for hosting this hop! 

Olivia - living life on her own terms

This past Saturday, I had to take Tanner in to see Dr. C. for his follow-up appointment.  (He is doing well and will be going to visit our holistic vet, Dr. L., very soon.  Then, as I think two heads are better than one, I'll be conversing via conference call with both vets to see if we can agree on a course of action going forward so that hopefully we never have a similar incident, as neither my nerves nor my checking account balance can readily withstand it!) 

Anyway, as Dr. C. and I were chatting at the end of the appointment, he asked me whether Olivia and Finn had given Tanner a hard time when he came home from the hospital.  I said that in fact they had, but that Finn had gotten over it in about five minutes while for Olivia it took more like five days.  

Then again, I said, she is a calico.  Dr. C. chuckled, and said, "Yes, well, they do live life on their own terms."  Gee, Doc.  Tell me something I DON'T know.  The last eight years with Olivia have been a lesson in exactly that.  There is Olivia's way, or the proverbial highway, and something that a normal cat would not even blink at sends Her Royal Caliconess into a tailspin. 

But look at that face .. I guess it's worth it! 

Tanner Update

First of all, I hope everyone had a very happy holiday, full of all the wonderful things you deserve!  And thank you for all the well wishes for Tanner. I am sure he appreciates them, or would if he could read, and I know I do! 

Tanner, I am happy to report, is once again home where he belongs (I picked him at the clinic yesterday afternoon after I got back in town from the Christmas holiday, and he was quite happy to see me, and ecstatic to be going home.  Tucker & Phoebe were happy to see him again, and he them, but, as I expected, Olivia & Finn were less thrilled.  As anyone who has multiple cats knows, they are never all that excited when one of their housemates comes back smelling like hospital.  Finn got over it in about five minutes, but Olivia, true to form, was still milking it even as I left for work this morning.  She refused dinner last night and breakfast this morning, and is, in short, throwing the hissy fit to end all hissy fits.  If past experience is anything to go by, I expect her to carry on this way for at least a few more days.  Oh, well.  

More importantly, Tanner is all but fully recovered.  He is hating his prescription canned food, as am I, but will be on it at least until I can get him in to our holistic vet to discuss other options, probably a week or two.  He was not eating well at all at the vet clinic, so was on mirtazapine to boost his appetite.  It worked a little bit, but not spectacularly so.  However, he's eating well since he's been home, even though he is clearly disgusted by what I'm serving him.  We'll go back for a recheck in two weeks.  For now I'm about 99% reassured, but still remaining watchful as this was a potentially really serious issue that, fortunately, we caught in the very early stages.

Fingers crossed that he continues to do well! 

Worried about my boy today ...

Tanner seemed "off" this morning, not his usual self, so I decided to run him over to our wonderful vet's office before work.  Turns out it was a very good thing I did, as his bladder was about half full of urine and he had a partial urethral obstruction, which is one of the symptoms of FLUTD.  This is one of those tricky things that affect male cats, but it's usually most common in boy kitties who are overweight and who eat a dry diet, which Tanner is not and does not. 

About five years ago, during a routine urinalysis at one of his yearly checkups, Tanner had some pre-crystals, (he was eating premium canned food at the time) and for a brief time he was put on a canned prescription diet for same.  It was shortly thereafter that I decided to switch everyone to a raw diet, and since then he has been completely fine, with no evidence of crystals whatsoever.  So this was a very unwanted and unexpected surprise, and it made for a very long and nerve-wracking day, during which I had to leave Tanner at the vet's so that he could be sedated and a catheter inserted to drain his bladder.  I visited him at lunchtime, though, and other than being a bit glassy-eyed from the meds, he seemed in decent shape.  He was happy to see me, and purred up a storm during our fifteen minute visit.  He's got an IV of saline in to hydrate him and flush out his kidneys, and a cone of shame on to keep him from messing with the IV.  He looks extremely pathetic, but Dr. C. assures me that he's doing well, but unfortunately because of the Christmas holiday and the fact that the cats had been scheduled to be looked after by a teen-aged friend of the family, he'll probably have to stay at the vet's until Wednesday morning, which just about breaks my heart, but I also know I wouldn't be able to enjoy my long weekend/Christmas holiday if I was worried about Tanner obstructing again and someone watching over him who may not recognize the signs and get him to the vet right away.  So as much as I hate the idea, I think it's best that he stays where he is until after Christmas.  

He'll be on the prescription canned food again until at least then, and then after the first of the year I'm going to schedule an appointment with our holistic practitioner, to see if there is anything she can suggest either instead of or in addition to this prescription food, to keep him from obstructing again.  Which, I'll be honest, I'm pretty worried about, as once it happens once it is likely to happen again, somewhat like bloat in dogs.  Fortunately, Tanner doesn't have stones, what he has is called a urethral plug, which is a partially solid cylindrical mass of minerals. For this reason, it is our vet's opinion that the underlying cause is very possibly the tap water, so we'll be switching either to a different kind of filter, or going to bottled water.  

I'd also like to take this opportunity to remind everyone that if you have a nagging suspicion that something might be wrong with one of the fur-people in your life, do yourself, and them, a favor, and get it checked out.  I felt a little ridiculous calling the vet's office this morning to let them know I was on my way in with Tanner, because of course they wanted to know what was wrong, and I really couldn't tell them. He wasn't off his food (he ate breakfast and dinner as normal yesterday and was on his way to the kitchen for breakfast this morning when I noticed that he didn't seem to be moving "right"), he wasn't crying or acting sick, he just seemed "off" to me, and so I took him in.  This meant that we caught what could have been a very serious, even life threatening, problem in the very early stages, and he is, paws crossed, going to be just fine.  

Point is, they can't tell us what's wrong, they can't tell us if something hurts, or they just don't feel "right."  We have to know them well enough to know what's normal for them and what isn't, and looking back on it, I should have known something wasn't right when Tanner insisted on sleeping next to me all night long, which he never does unless it's really cold out and he wants under the blankets.  Knowing what I know now, I honestly believe that he was trying to tell me  something was wrong in the only way he knew how.  

Anyway ... for now the news is good - he's no longer blocked, and is resting comfortably.  He probably even has a good buzz going.  But I am worried about the possible long term implications of this, and I'd appreciate any good thoughts you could send his way.  

Black & White Sunday #9 (Olivia)

Thanks to You Did What With Your Weiner, My Life In Blog Years, and Dachsund Nola for hosting this hop! 

Love One Another

It's really that simple ... 

Our hearts go out to the families and friends of the innocent victims of Sandy Hook, and to the entire community of Newtown, Connecticut that is struggling with the shock and grief of such a senseless tragedy.  There just are not words.  

See Beautiful

We are pleased to be joining the See Beautiful blog hop today, along with Sugar the Golden Retriever who is generously donating $1.00 to See Beautiful's non-profit of the month, St. Anne's Center - Lantern House PET AREA for everyone who joins the blog hop today.  Isn't she awesome?

I've learned a lot of lessons from my animal companions over the years ... 

Lessons in loving passionately and wholeheartedly even when you know the heartbreak of loss is waiting, unseen but keenly felt, down the road ...

Lessons in patience, when trying to communicate in a loving way with creatures who don't speak your language ...

Lessons in the joy that is yours when, through that patience, you forge a close and loving relationship, and a shared language, with another creature ...

Lessons in tolerance, when blending together animals of different species, personalities, and life histories into a harmonious family unit ...

And perhaps most of all, lessons in being aware that the many precious moments we share with them are, when strung together, the individual pearls in a luminous necklace of memories that help to in some small part sustain us when they have gone on ahead ... 

As one of my personal heroes, Ferris Bueller, was wont to say, "Life moves pretty fast ... if you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it." 

Our animal friends are masters in the art of never forgetting to stop and look around.  They can spend 30 minutes intensely sniffing a single blade of grass.  When they feel the sun warm on their heads, they never fail to raise their heads skyward, schedules and deadlines be damned ... the better to soak in the blessed, healing warmth.  They love passionately and unreservedly, with no thought for any day of reckoning or loss that may be waiting somewhere beyond the horizon.  That may well be because they aren't capable of the foreknowledge of death, but I choose to believe that it's also because they would rather focus on sucking every possible drop of joy and beauty out of the present than on pointlessly worrying about the future.  

For these reasons and so many others, the two dogs and three cats I am so privileged to share my life with are beautiful beyond all words to me, and it never fails to amaze me that one of the reasons I'm so lucky to have them is because the beauty I see in them, that is all too obvious to me each and every day, was somehow not recognized by others.  Which is those people's loss, whoever and wherever they might be, and my inestimable gain.  

So this post is for Tucker, for Olivia, for Tanner, and Phoebe, and Finn ... 

My sweet and beautiful friends, thank you from the bottom of my heart for enriching my life each and every day with the beauty of your love, companionship, and abiding affection.  I can't imagine what I could have done to deserve it, but I am forever grateful, and although I know you will never read these words, I hope you somehow feel my love for you all, as I feel yours for me.  I believe that you do.  

One Word Wednesday: Two-fer

Black & White Sunday #8 (Tucker)

Thanks to You Did What With Your Weiner, My Life In Blog Years, and Dachsund Nola for hosting this hop!

Murray Update

So Murray has been with me (as my office pet, as if Tucker & Phoebe, who accompany me to the office on most workdays don't count, which of course they do) for a little over a month and a half, and honestly, this is not so much an update as it is an announcement that despite my inexperience with creatures of the finned variety, Murray is still kicking, er swimming, and appears to be thriving, not that I really have any idea.  I admit to being a bit nervous in the beginning, despite all reports at how hardy bettas are, that I would care for him properly, and the first week or so I would experience a moment of apprehension as I entered my office, fearing the worst and always so relieved to find him alive and well.  

The truth is ... Murray doesn't do much.  His world is not large ... just however much water his 8 x 6 x 4  tank holds - I think about a gallon.  Yet he does what he does with apparent enthusiasm, and I quite enjoy watching him swim around and am very happy to have him sharing space on my desk.  He does just fine on weekends, and with the help of a little dissolvable fish cake, also made it just fine through the long Thanksgiving holiday weekend all on his own.  

I don't know if I can go so far as to say I love Murray ... it's hard to bond too strongly with a creature who inhabits a whole other element ... but I do like him a lot and I'm glad to have him around.  He's quite a soothing presence in a rather stressful environment and sometimes just watching him cruise around his tank is enough to relax me if I am getting worked up about something.  One thing's for sure ... a Betta is a heck of a lot cheaper than Xanax.

If you are in need of calming yourself, I prescribe this short video of Murray being Murray.

You're welcome! 

Work It, Girl!

As has been pretty well-documented on this blog, there are not many dogs, be it a breed or an individual dog, that I don't love, or at least like a lot.  There are a few breeds that leave me feeling a little lukewarm, although I won't name them here lest I unintentionally offend someone.  Point is - big or small, short coated or long coated, scruffy or sleek ... I heart dogs.  Almost universally so.  And there are a few that I heart big-time ... and yet, much as I love them, wouldn't necessarily want to live with one.  Beagles are one of these breeds.  Every time I see one I melt ... those big, soulful brown eyes, that happily wagging white-tipped tail, those big, velvety-soft ears!  Squee!  I mean, come on ... who doesn't love Snoopy?  My grandparents had a Beagle, and my best friend J has had three in succession over the twenty years we've been friends.  I have loved them all, even though, on balance, Beagles would not be a breed I would choose to live with.  I can't really explain why, I just know that as much as I love them, I prefer to love them at someone else's house.  

J's current Beagle, Stella, is perhaps my favorite.  And she, like almost every Beagle I have ever known, will shamelessly try to manipulate you into giving her whatever she happens to want at the moment (a bite of your food, ALL of your food, some belly rubs, etc.).  Stella's favorite tool in her arsenal of manipulation is to fix you with her big brown eyes and just WILL you to capitulate.  This girl knows how to work it.  Observe ... 

I am lying here so nicely at your feet.  Don't you want to rub my belly?

I NEED belly rubs!  Do you see how SAD AND PATHETIC I look because you are not giving me any belly rubs?  I am almost about to CRY!  Even though I am not a Basenji and can't REALLY cry, I am crying on the inside.  Trust me.

You are still not petting me?  You just might be the meanest person I've ever met.  How about I give you a kiss?

Puppy Love

Over Thanksgiving, I had the opportunity to meet Z, a gorgeous ten week old Akita pup.  I was visiting my best friend J (and also her husband, J, and son, J ... yep, lots of J's in that house, and they are three of my favorite people in the world, so it's always great to get to see them, which isn't as often as I would like since they live four hours away.)  

Almost as soon as I walked in the door, she said "Hey, do you want to go see the neighbor's new puppy?"  Um ... is the Pope Catholic?  And so, after I finished smooching J's fur children (including her Beagle, Stella and dilute calico polydactyl kitty, Sydney - who you might have seen if you follow us on Instagram), we headed out to go see baby Z.

I have always loved Akitas ... they are certainly not a dog for everyone, but this particular family is knowledgeable and passionate about the breed, and had recently lost their previous Akita, C., so it was  incredibly heartwarming to see how much joy little Z. was bringing to their home.  I had never met these particular neighbors of J's before, but as often happens, a shared love of dogs made it seem like the most natural thing in the world to sit around on a stranger's living room floor and coo puppy silliness to baby Z.  As I happened to have my camera with me, I snapped a few pictures, and while most of them were not very good, (Z. was a bundle of puppy energy, and I tend to do a lot better in instances where my subjects are relatively still due to my ineptitude behind the camera) there were a few that came out decently.  Not being one to keep all that puppy adorableness to myself, I thought  I would share those with you.  Too bad the puppy breath doesn't translate ... 

 * As a side note, I am not a fan of "choke" collars, particularly on puppies, but I didn't feel it was my place to say anything in this case. 

Black & White Sunday #7 (Olivia)

Thanks to You Did What With Your Weiner, My Life In Blog Years, and Dachsund Nola for hosting this hop! 

Instagram anyone?

So here's my random confession.  This blog notwithstanding, I am not a super big fan of social media.  It's a necessary evil of my job that I am required to have a working knowledge of the various social media platforms and how they function both separately and together, but for the most part, for me, that's where it ends.  Facebook has never been a big draw for me.  Pretty much everyone I want or need to talk to, I already do, and the last thing I want to do with any spare time I have is read about what someone I haven't talked to in fifteen years is making for dinner tonight.  Call me crazy, call me antisocial ... whatever, but it just isn't for me.  Twitter ... same thing.  You may be my family, you may be my dearest friend, but I'd rather give you a kidney than hear about how much you're paying per gallon for gas, what you ate for lunch, or what bumper sticker you just saw on the back of the car in front of you at the stop light.  With very few exceptions, it just doesn't interest me.  Pinterest, on the other hand, I am all about, but I could see within days of signing up for it that it would be a potentially HUGE time suck for me.  So I just stopped.  Cold  turkey.  No support group, no nothing.  Impressive, right? 

 Now, I know there are people who use Facebook and Twitter and the like for true good - people who are in the trenches of rescue efforts and such.  That, I can totally get behind.  On the whole, though .. meh.  

Which is why Instagram didn't initially interest me ... but then I reconsidered.  And then ... since I figured most of the pictures I'd be sharing were of Tucker & the gang anyway, I might as well go full out.  So you can now get your fix of Tucker, Olivia, Tanner, Phoebe, and Finn on Instagram ... if you've a mind to. Just look for us @tuckertellsall 

And here's a little bit of what you've missed thus far ... 

Tucker being adorable ...


Finn being sleepy ...


Olivia striking a diva pose ... (something she's quite good at) 


Tucker letting me know what he thought of getting a bath ...


Tanner making it clear that he can bathe HIMSELF, thank you very much!


Phoebe giving me her patented "I don't know what you're talking about" face when I told her it was time to get up!


Olivia trying to be supportive by lying next to me when I had a migraine.


Tucker giving me his best "This is not Men in Black 3, so stop flashy-thinging me and turn out the lights!" look.

Anyway, since I've been posting only very sporadically lately, (same for visiting others' blogs) it's been fun to scout out some of our blogging buddies who are also on Instagram and see what they're up to.  Those people know who they are but if there is anyone else out there we haven't found, do let us know so that we can look for you!