01/11/2026
This is a tough one to post.
Being blessed to work with dogs over many years, I get to share in the sadness when client dogs pass. You get to witness what that dog meant to a person...
And, I'm experiencing that shared grief being returned to me 10-fold in the passing of my guy Quinn. We worked together, bi***ed about life together, he was up for anything (baths notwithstanding), always wanted to take the lead, would want to get on the grooming table to chill a nervous dog - and did many times.
He was with me/us for just about 8yrs - those years were the most transitional for my family, and the most transformative years of my life. His origin coming to us was complicated, he needed very clear direction to say the least, lol, and he was up for the task. He'd argue with anyone, he had to endure backyard genetics that gave him joint pain from playing too hard and as such accepted a low-activity life without destroying anything out of nervous or pent-up energy. All of which you take for granted the moment they leave.
His life was both mundane and epic from Meathead to Quinn-cess, to being our rock.
To say he was a rock is an understatement.
In character, body type and swimming ability, lol...
He was a dog of a 1000 faces.
None of them told the whole story of Quinn.
We weren't ready for his story here to be over - so soon or so suddenly.
There have been a small handful of 'dog moments' that I've been witness to that can't be dismissed as coincidence when they happen. After having been a rock for us —ok, yes, for me too, not just my kids — my feeling is that he clocked that I got to where I needed to go with him by my side.
So the next morning — maybe with a little "well, ya took long enough" energy — he clocked out.
Ok Quinn, if you had to go, who am I to tell you no.
That's job done then buddy.
Such a Good Boy.
You were one of the best.
Thank you.
— DRK
