Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Quincy: A Eulogy

I have so many memories of Quincy flooding through my head over these past weeks as we realized he would not be with us much longer. I need to write them down now so they do not pass along with him. I will never forget picking Quincy up in July 2003 from Oxnard. I was so nervous, having never owned a dog before. I read about how puppies can get carsick and I worried the whole drive home, down PCH listening to David Grey, that he would puke on me. He didn't.

He was our first baby. We read books about puppies, we did all we could to give him a good start to life. He traveled with us to faraway lands, like Catalina, Palm Springs, Carmel, & Big Bear. He traversed the wild streets of Venice on a daily basis. He made friends with all the homeless people and we joked that he was like the mayor of Venice because all his friends would call out to him, "hey Quincy!" as he walked his usual routes. He was just as likely to kiss a baby's toes as to lick a homeless person's toes. If you think about that enough, you will likely gag. He would start licking and I would be pulling him away, "okay, Quincy it's time to go!", needless to say with panic and repulsion in my voice.
He was known to chew things up, namely Jon's wallet, twice, and my wedding shoes, thankfully after the wedding was over. He would bite me with his razor puppy teeth to the point I might have cried a time or two. 

Quincy loved the beach, especially Marina Del Rey. He loved to swim. He loved to get super sandy and wet and stand right next to you before shaking sandy water all over you. He could swim for hours if you let him. Quincy brought many special families into our lives who we never would have met if not on the beach via our pups.

He loved both of our babies from the moment we brought them home, even as their arrivals knocked him down the totem pole of our family structure. I was the most guilty of this, leaving Jon to happily continue to tend to Quincy's needs as I focused on the children. Quincy did not have a mean bone in his body and loved to be around Avery and Landon, especially at meal times.
He learned very early on as Avery began to eat solids that the best place to be was directly under a young child's place at the table. We eventually had to lock him in the laundry room during meals so he wouldn't find opportune times to steal a peanut butter sandwich, destroy a birthday cake, or eat 2 whole chicken carcasses in the course of 1 week. He could eat and eat and eat. 
As his paw started dragging and his head started tilting, we did not realize how quickly things would progress to where he couldn't walk without assistance. Never have we been faced with such a difficult decision in our family as to when to take him to the vet to receive medicine to end his suffering. Today was that day. We are heartbroken. Beyond heartbroken. There will be no scuffle of his paws downstairs, no more barking when someone come to the door, no more tail wagging when the kids come home from school, no more belly rubs, no more swimming in the sea.
You were the best dog, Quincy, Quinny-bin, Quinny-bear, Quinny-boo, Quiny Binny Boo, Booboo bear, Pupa Pa Nub, Pupa Dupa, Pupa Lupa. Thank you for teaching me how to love a dog and for forgiving me those times when I didn't love you the way you deserved (like when I would curse your name as I vacuumed your white fur off our black floors, endlessly).