Quigley left us yesterday.
He had been acting out of sorts for the last couple weeks; peeing in the house, going under the deck, eating less, losing weight, whimpering, growling, snapping, and, worst of all, walking around and around and around. We knew something was up and we figured the end was near.
I was getting very frustrated with him and I was tired of dealing with a dog. That might be how pets prepare you for letting them go. Become annoying. He couldn’t help it. Something was terribly wrong and we couldn’t afford to do much for him. That really added to my frustration. We wanted to help him, but we knew we couldn’t afford any large vet bills. A trip to the vet meant he was going to get put down. So, we’d give him aspirin, extra treats, whatever to keep him comfortable.
But, after an exceedingly difficult night of seizures (especially difficult for Amy, my wife, because she was the one dealing with him most the night while I looked after our son), I brought Quigley to the vet and his pain was ended.
I met Quigley shortly after meeting Amy. Quigley was Amy’s dog for three years prior to that. She had worked at an area Humane Society where Quigley was brought in. Quigley was considered unadoptable because he apparently hadn’t been properly socialized. And he was quite possibly abused. He seemed to like no one, but he liked Amy. He’d get up on his hind legs for her to hug him every time he saw her. She decided she’d take him home.
Quigley didn’t care for many other people. I’m pretty sure he only bonded to half a dozen in all. He would either growl and snap at Amy’s friends or try to hump them. Which is why it was so surprising that he took to me right away.
I thought he was the goofiest dog I’d ever seen. Cute, but goofy. I quickly grew to love that little goofball. He used to stand up for hugs from me, as well. He’d get all excited when we got home from work. He’d run around, stop with his butt in the air and his front legs splayed out, spin in circles and run around some more.
Sometimes, when Amy and I would be cuddling on the floor, Amy would cry out for help and Quigley would playfully nip at my back. I used to love that.
And just like all dog-owners, we loved it when he’d just snuggle up with us on the couch. Heck, until our son came along, Quigley used to sleep in bed with us. Something I didn’t always think highly of.
So, the house feels a little emptier. It’s certainly quieter. We will miss Quigley dearly, but will be forever grateful for his being part of our lives.
Goodbye, boy. We love you.