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Quittapahilla, or Quittie for short, was... I don't even know what to say. Quittie was my best doggie friend, and while she could be overly exuberant at times (as all puppies can be), she brightened the household that hadn't had a dog in so long. She was a Flat Coat Retriever, and she was extremely unique. I went away to college a year and a half ago, and she was what I missed the most. That bounce in her walk, the way she greeted you at the door, wagging her entire body and going straight for your shoelaces. She liked butt rubs, and when you gave her one her whole body would just curl around in joy as she tried to rub her butt deeper against your hands, and tried to lick your hands, all at once. This semester was an especially hard one for me at school, and I was more homesick than last year. I was stressed and ready to be done, ready to just go home where there is snow (sometimes), and my parents, where my fiancé only lives 6 miles down the road from me. I wanted to go home where if I needed to cry, there was a dog that would let me hold her and somehow seem to understand. I didn't find out until the night before I was to fly home to PA that Quittie had been hit by a car the previous Monday and didn't make it... I cried. I still cry, because it's hard to deal with the fact that she's gone. My parents had her cremated, and today (Friday before Christmas) we unwrapped the package to see this beautiful wooden carved box. Inside was a clear plastic bag with Quittie's ashes in it, with her name on it and a dried rose. It was touching, that they went to so much effort to honor our pet. There were tears; we had to decide what to do with the ashes. So now? Now the only thing I have left to hold on to are the memories, and the pictures. Let me tell you about the dog that meant so much to me and my parents, and why she was so unique. Quittie didn't walk. She bounced. Or maybe saying that she pranced is a better description. Either way, when she got so excited she couldn't hold it in, it was like watching her dance. She loved car rides. It was always amusing because we'd open the window a crack, in rain or shine, warm or cold, and she'd stick her nose right up to it and do that funny woofing sound... not a woof, but not just breathing either. Oh yea, and taking her for car rides always meant lots of nose prints on the window. :) The other funny thing was sometimes we'd take her to the store and leave her in the car while we got groceries. When we came out, she was sitting in the driver's seat like she belonged there... that always got a chuckle. Quittie was a retriever, yes, but I don't think she'd quite learned what that meant yet. You'd throw the ball, and she'd go get it. Most of the time. And when she did get it, she didn't bring it back, you had to go chase her and wrestle it out of her grasp if you wanted to throw it for her again. Dad started training her to be a bird dog this summer, and when she went to get the "bird" it was a little better, but not always. Can you imagine having her do that to a real bird you just shot? <laughs> Anybody who has a puppy knows what they can be like. As a good friend once termed it, they are a "land shark." Quittie was no different, we had to teach her to stay away from the trash cans, and that if it wasn't on the floor than she couldn't have it. She chewed my sneakers once, and I was pretty pissed about it. But we never could train it out of her to leave the kleenexes alone... she loved kleenex! Especially used. We had to watch where we threw away used tissues, because if it wasn't in a covered trashcan, we'd come downstairs and discover it neatly shredded all over the living room floor. Ah yes. On of her nicknames was "The Creep." Her customary place when we ate meals was laying down on the floor, usually at the table corner between my mom and my dad. However, over the course of dinner she would use her elbows and the flat of her legs to creep under the table, around the table, etc. We had rules in the house. We weren't one of those houses that just let the dog on the furniture, or fed them as much people food as normal food. My first dog that I remember wasn't allowed everywhere in the house either, she could only go where there was linoleum, i.e. the kitchen, stairs, and upstairs hallway. We were a little more lenient with Quittie, she pretty much was allowed everywhere in the house, but not on the furniture. Especially not on the beds... at least not my parents bed. :P Winter's are cold here, and my room is usually the coldest in the house, so getting into bed is... chilly. I did let Quittie on my bed, and only my bed, and at night I would read while she lay beside me and looked out the window. Then by the time I was ready to actually get in bed, the sheets were nice and warm, and I had a nice warm body next to me to help keep them warm, even though Quittie stayed on top of the blankets. Of course, she never did stay until I went to sleep... I think it had something to do with the fact that she's a bed hog and I move around a bit to get comfortable. But she also slept really weird... most animals, even people, close their eyes to sleep. Quittie's eyes would roll back in her head, and then recede even further back in the socket, so when she was sleeping, if you only glanced at her, it looked like she had no eyes... <shudders> It was a little creepy! Quittie liked people. Most especially, she liked people's shoelaces. Say you're a friend, knocking on the door. We answer and invite you in, all the while struggling to keep the dog inside so she doesn't maul you with kisses. In the end it usually doesn't matter, because you come in and she mauls you with kisses anyways. So first she kisses your hands, and then she puts her head down and her butt up (so you can rub it, of course!) and proceeds to just shower kisses upon your shoes. If she does it right, then she'll untie your shoelaces... hehe. Quittie liked small places. Dad has this old roll-top desk with a very deep legspace. He'd be working on his computer and Quittie would be upstairs with him. He'd look at her, point to under the desk, and say, "Quittie! Hidey hole!" and she would crawl into the back of the legspace and curl up back there. And if she didn't want to be back there anymore, then she'd crawl out between Dad's feet and underneath the chair... lol. She also liked under my bed.
I wasn't really in the Christmas spirit this year. A large part of it was because Quittie had died, but there were other contributers. Finals hadn't gone so well, and there was something I had been working my butt off to get in WoW, and I haven't gotten it yet, and the spinning wheel, that beautiful spinning wheel that seemed once-in-a-lifetime chance... we didn't get that either. Even though we had relatives over, and they had brought their little dog, it just wasn't Quittie, and not nearly the same. Christmas Eve I was up late, moping, playing WoW... I guess everybody just takes their own time to get over stuff like this. With me, it took sharing it with someone. Doing this page helped, because it helped me remember Quittie. I think things started to look up Christmas morning, when everyone opened their presents. There was one under there for me, the tag said: To Claire - 1. for all the memories - 2. Something borrowed. 3. Something owed. Love Mom & Dad <raises an imaginary glass> Here's to Quittie... Merry Christmas. :)
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