11/19/2014 A Tribute to My Narcoleptic Puppy
Quinn turned twelve on the 8th of November. He has no clue. Seriously. Outside of exhibiting some signs of going deaf, it's hard to tell he's a 'senior' now. He still tears across the yard with his brephew (brother-nephew), makes snow angels, barks at me in his big-dog bark, and hops around like an absolute fool when he thinks we're going to do something fun. Or when he's in a good mood. Which, with Quinn, is almost always. He is the most mellow, relaxed dog I've every lived with; at ease just about everywhere, with everyone. And yes, as a puppy we swore he was narcoleptic because any time you picked him up, he fell asleep. I remember him as a tiny guy, laying in the palm of my hand, legs draped over the sides, happily snoozing away. Last month, I officially retired Quinn from the trial arena. I had hoped