Quinn Unn Gerda

Saturday will be 3 weeks...And I still find myself sifting through memories. Buckle up, grab a beverage and settle in. Here is The Story of Quinn.

A little while after we got Tippi, we got news that Quinn was in need of a home. At first, my sister said she'd take her, so up Hubby went to get her. I was recovering from hand surgery, and Tippi was still getting used to us, so...that's how that went. It turned out that Quinn wasn't all that fond of men. And she took quite some time to adjust to our mainly-male household. 

I have a clear memory (though no photo) of Kid #1 trying to hand-feed Quinn, who was hiding under the dining room table. Ultimately, she was not only an EPIC foster-fail, but she feel in love with ALL THE GUYS...She definitely overcame her fear. I'm pretty sure our friend and facilitator of this "foster" knew in her heart that it was going to "fail." 

Quinn had her personality challenge, let's be honest. She was a snot. At that time, we had Tippi and our red husky, River, who was a retired show dog. Tippi wanted NOTHING to do with Quinn. (I know - Tippi was hardly "mother of the year.") River, taking a look at the situation, and assessing as a Husky would, swatted Quinn upside the head and then pinned her down with The Husky Paw of Pain and Quinn -- surprisingly -- fell in love and was devoted to Rover for the rest of River's life. (that is her sharing River's space - they often slept close to each other)

Quinn was our snuggle-bunny. She loved getting right in the middle of where the people were. She loved her "kids" and she loved to sit on them. Yes. ON them. She also found "under my chair" her favorite space. As a puppy she could get her whole self under there. As she grew, it was eventually only her head. For a good 12 years, I was never able to recline that chair - at least without checking first to see if she was anywhere near it.

She would bark. And bark. And bark. She was capable of at least a two-octave range. She sounded like we had at least 3 MORE dogs!! Her favorite perch was a little stool we placed at the front window, just to save the window's woodwork. Everyone knew Quinn. Everyone...

She also loved to challenge her place on the couch - it was usually between me and Hubby. If we dared to sit close to each other, one of two things happened: She either sat in front of us and stared, aternately, at each of us with that special, piercing Elkhound gaze -- till we gave her space. OR -- she jumped up alongside whichever one was in the middle part of the couch, and then wormed (bulldozed) her way between us. It was always a question of which one of us would get her butt in our face. When I had my hip replaced this past summer and Hubby helped me do home PT, she was right there on that couch, touching me in some way, and making sure he was taking care of me properly. 

She went through all 4 levels of obedience, and attained her Canine Good Citizen. She never really had the temperament for a therapy dog; and that was fine. She was who she was. 

Her worst nightmare was the awful curse of sebaceous cysts that she suffered with. In the Elkhound world, we've all had that discussion - we wish Quinn would've been one of those who "grew out of them," but sadly, she was plagued. Sidney was able to take on most of that care -- my job was holding her head and telling her she was the BESTEST GIRL while he did what had to be done. Needless to say, she was not happy when she had a bad flare up. Otherwise, though? She was the healthiest dog. She had beautiful teeth till she died. Her smile was contagious. 

When we brought Raisa into the house, we were still a happy band of three till Raisa hit her teens (around age 3-4). Then, she and Quinn? Not good. To be honest, I had several long conversations with the late, great Steve Chester...a giant in the rescue world; his advice saved my sanity more than once. We were a gated community until Raisa's untimely death in September 2023. Quinn suddenly became an "only dog," and to be honest? I don't know that she liked it. And sadly, she didn't have much time to adjust, since her diagnosis of advanced lymphoma was in October 2023... Definitely not divine timing.

Her other love, aside from snuggling and dressing up in weird hats and costumes for Howl-O-Ween, was running in the snow. None of us is a fan of the current snow-less winters, and we took complete advantage of the dog park when we got blizzards. Nobody else in town was crazy enough to join us, so we had the park to ourselves. Sadly, there were never enough blizzards for either of us. 

She was our "perpetual puppy" -- she always looked younger than she was, up till she was about 12 years old. She was alwas skinny -- "Skinny Quinnie" was just one of her many nicknames. She was always active. I remember trying to teach Tippi to go up a ramp to get into my truck. I had both dogs out there. Treats on the ramp. Tippi went up far enough to scoop up 3 or 4 treats. Quinn just went airborne, leaped into the truck and looked at me as if to say, "Ok, treat, please!" Both of them entirely missed the point of the ramp. Elkhounds....what can you do??  

She was a leggy girl, with a cinnabon tail, and a rogue-ish personality. She had three tricks in her arsenal, and that's what you got. She loved to dress up, stalk Hubby for toast, play with her Kong bone, and she used to jump up and sit on my lap in my chair (all 60 pounds of her) -- she would do that till she was about 12 years old. I had to make sure to pay attention, because she didn't care if I was knitting or not. When she wanted up, she wanted up. She loved frozen blueberries and cheese, and from a dead-sleep, she could tell which one I was opening up and she'd be right behind me before I knew it.  

Almost 14.5 years. Wasn't nearly enough time. We miss her.