Losing Quigley
He was more than a dog; he was my family.
Some say that losing a pet can be as difficult as losing a (human) family member. Our pets are with us every day, through thick and thin. They depend on us and they love us unconditionally. All that, and it’s often up to us to make the gut-wrenching decision when our beloved pets have had enough.
Prior to last year, I had lost one cat and one dog in my adult life. Their losses reverberating throughout my life for many months, but I was comforted by the fact that both lived long lives and passed on their own accords. I had never lost a pet suddenly, but that changed last Thanksgiving.
Quigley entered my life in 2020. Like the rest of the world, I was bored at home and passing time online. I saw a post from a St. Louis rescue organization for one of the smallest and cutest dogs I had ever seen, and something about this fragile pup spoke to me. The rest is history.
I knew Quigley wouldn’t be an easy pet – humans had failed him, leaving this senior totally blind, largely hairless, underweight, and without a bottom jaw. Fortunately, All Paws Rescue saw his potential and saved him (and his brother Quincy) from a bad situation. Even more fortunately for me, they deemed me worthy of being his mom.
For more than three years, I had the honor of caring for this magical little dog. In return, he made me smile every day. He slept in my arms every night. He cuddled with his doggie siblings, Eli and Alice Mae. And he inspired me, serving as a powerful daily reminder that dogs are unbelievably resilient and forgiving.
With love and time, Quigley thrived. He gained weight, tipping the scales at 2.9 pounds, and his hair grew back. While he didn’t exactly play, he did navigate his room with confidence. He greeted me with tail wags as if I were returning from battle, not errands. He smelled like baked goods. In short, he was the perfect dog, and practically an appendage of mine when my new job allowed me to work from home, dogs in my lap.
Quigley’s last night on earth was Thanksgiving. He sat on my lap through a beautiful family dinner. He napped and watched football with his favorite family members. I sneaked Quigley a few bites of turkey and mashed potatoes and told him how thankful I was to be his mom, and in return, he warmed my lap – and my heart. The next day, he succumbed to a brain tumor that seemingly came out of nowhere, taking his ability to stand and breaking my heart in the process.
Losing Quigley is one of the hardest things I’ve had to bear. He was more than a dog; he was my family. He was in my arms constantly, and his absence is palpable. Dogs just don’t live long enough – but while I wanted to spend the rest of my life with my tiny “Quigs,” I’m honored he spent the rest of his life with me.
I know there will be many other special dogs in my life, but I’ll never love one more than I loved my Quigley. If you’re considering adopting an older or special needs pet, I can promise you it will be one of the most rewarding things you ever do.