Four years ago December 9th, I adopted an adorable Maltese-mix puppy out in San Diego. I’ve written before about Quint’s arrival in my life just seven weeks after Rich’s passing. Quint, named for Robert Shaw’s character in JAWS, began his life on the very same day Rich entered the ICU beginning what would become the end of his.
While Rich struggled in the Southeast, Quint and his siblings did so on the West Coast due to complications and lack of proper care until being taken in by a dedicated foster family. I found myself holding a vigil for all and in the perfect world, I envisioned Quint, Rich and I leading happy lives together in no time as we’d done once-upon-a-time with our Portuguese water dog, Hooper.
Although Rich watched a video of a newborn Quint with his littermates and mom, he’d never get to hold that little cream-colored puff ball, but sometimes in my time-line challenged mind, I actually believe he did.
My recent social media archives have offered glimpses of those early days with Quint enjoying his first Christmas in my home in Georgia where he helped get me through those harrowing holiday “Firsts” without my husband, the perfect diversion.
Nine months later, Quint took a road trip with me up to New Jersey to bring some of Rich’s cremains home, and to claim his honorary title of Jersey Dawg. The details of that ride and visit served as the content for my debut post for Widow’s Voice.
Quint enjoyed his home in Georgia, but has adapted nicely to life in a log home in a rural setting with three canine-housemates, two of them locally adopted as pups, each with a story of their own I will never completely know.
Later today, an animal rescue group will hold a live raffle drawing that benefits animal welfare in this region of “Old” Florida. Like many large underserved areas, it’s been a struggle for the county to come to grips with its numerous packs of roaming dogs, helpless lltters of pups born in the wild and feral cats. Sometimes it all gets to be too much and as much as I enjoy helping a worthy cause, I often need to remind myself, and others, that each of us can only do so much to help. I’m a small cog in the wheel of change and that is an important thing to remember. Most change comes slowly with hopeful pressure exterted consistently over time. It takes a pack of dedicated individuals and I’m happy to say I’ve come to know so many. Their dedication inspires me.
On Monday, I will return two-hours north to Georgia to temporarily reclaim my home as its tenants have moved back to a house that is now restored after they were displaced by a fire. I go with mixed-emotions. That home holds so many memories, mostly good, but it also the place where Rich left one day never to return. I’ve taken that in-between space between tenants to continue to clean out that house so it’s ready for whatever may come in the new year. This time, however, I’m down to the nitty-gritty and decisions will be harder.
I try to look at this as a fortunate situation, and a challenge, and will continue to make important decisions intuitively as I’ve done in the past. It will also be good to spend some time with friends and neighbors that I’ve missed for the past two years. It’s always good to have choices.
Despite now sharing space his space with three other dogs, Quint remains very special to me. Although blind, he has served as my emotional guide dog as I literally guide him with my voice and intention.
I could say that Quint and I are on the scent of home, but as his sense of smell is also lacking, much like mine (never had one), it’s a nice figure of speech. I will bring him up to Georgia with me so he can spend time in what was his first “Forever” home. I understand, however, that as the saying goes, home is where the heart is, and we all must follow our hearts as we move forward day by day.
