Twelve years ago, the day after Thanksgiving, another beautiful rescue story had another beautiful beginning. That’s the day one of my daughters rescued the little brown dog - Quinnifer a.k.a. Quinn. It wasn’t the first home into which the little brown dog had been welcomed. It wasn’t even the second one. Quinn’s first year of life is a mystery to us all, but we know she was “adopted” and returned by at least one other family before she came to be Quinnifer Lee. Looking back, she almost didn’t make it through the first week as a Lee.
Quinn’s earliest days might have been in Durham, NC. Or they might have been somewhere altogether different. I have no idea. She came to my daughter out of a Durham shelter. I are most grateful for the work this shelter and so many others do to save the beautiful animals who have been given a rough lot in life - no home, abandoned, unwanted, or left behind by a loving family that moved or an elderly owner who passed. The wonderful people working at shelters across the country, and around the globe, open up their hearts on a daily basis to make the lives of these wonderful strays whole again, and to help heal them physically and emotionally to the best place possible. Thank you, one and all.
As I said, Quinn came to my family the day after Thanksgiving, and almost didn’t make it the first week. No one in my family had ever had a dog. Cats? Yes. Dog? No. Quinn came with a lot of anxiety, and did a lot of things we had never seen done by a cat. Clearly, she needed a home and a generous, loving heart. My daughter supplied both as she and Quinn patiently came to know one another and worked on helping Quinn become a family member.
Fast forward a few years, and Quinn moved in with me. How many of you reading this have “hand-me-down” pets from your children? It is wonderful watching children take next steps in adulthood, and it is a gift, albeit not a life plan, to receive your grown child’s dog or cat when your young adult takes flight and realizes it is best done solo, instead of with the responsibility of caring for another. That’s how Quinn became a “farm dog,” joining me at my former flower farm in Connecticut. It’s also how dogs became a wonderful part of my daily life, and also my writing life. Quinn has taught me nearly all I know about dogs.
When I say Quinn followed me everywhere as I grew and harvested thousands upon thousands of flowers a year, I mean she followed me everywhere. She was a star participant! Still is, but now it is a writing life she is learning. As a flower-farming dog, Quinn helped plant, dig, plant, dig, cut flowers, water flowers, assemble bouquets, and more. She was an expert supervisor, rising from the ranks of newbie intern very, very quickly. What a joy it was to have her at my side. If we had to make eight trips back and forth from field to barn with buckets of flowers in hand, she nobly walked back and forth from flower row to barn eight times. In fact, she often led the way with an occasional glance over her shoulder to ensure I was on track. When we pulled out a hose to water new seedlings into their row, there she lay, within ten feet of me, one paw slung over the hose, apparently monitoring. When I made bouquets in the barn, she curled in a bed beside me, and rose every so often to do a check-in before resettling in a beautiful dog-curl repose.
Animals have long been important to me, and Quinn has been one significant life-lesson for me, as I know other dogs have been for many people. As she and I transition from a mighty flower-farming duo to an inseparable writing team, Quinn is diligently pursuing the learning curve alongside me. Had I not had Quinnifer in my life all these years, I would never have included Lila and Terrance in my debut novel Clean Sweep. I absolutely needed my dog experience to come up with the idea of including these two little dogs in the story, and being able to add details with which readers could relate.
As I awaken daily to the very happy heart of my little companion hound, I am grateful on a daily basis for this wonderful Thanksgiving Rescue story and for the work of the many rescue shelters and kind hearts far and near. They always say it is the person who is “rescued” and not the pet. I must say, I am one very, very lucky human rescue. Without this gift of a dog, my life would be far less full. Here’s to finding the love of others, both human and furry, feathered, or finned. Here’s to being thankful every single moment of each day, for all the wonder life holds. Here’s to gratitude for this good earth, and to the bonds we can make, rather than the ones broken.