Monday, May 28, 2012


Over the weekend my dog Quincey passed away. I loved Quincey more than I could possibly describe and it has been very tough losing his presence. He lived a long life of 13 years and I am forever grateful of our time together. We had a beautiful ceremony around the teepee with my friends and family everyone shared what they loved most about him. I wrote the story of our life the night he passed. I wanted to share it on here. My dad said it is his eulogy. Although this is a rough draft I wanted to share it here along with a few photos of my wonderful little man, I love and will miss you so much.

There are few things as magical in this world than the relationship between a dog and a human. It’s like a kinship connected from the moment your canine chooses you. My dog Quincey was a little brother, best friend, life partner, perpetual lover and straight up awesome little guy. I remember the first day I got him I begged my parents for a puppy. We had tried another test run with a dog but it didn’t quite work. Then my mom brought home Quincey the runt of a litter of puppies from a kid in her second grade class. When Quincey was a puppy we were always finding his poop in the house and he would always run onto route seven barking at incoming traffic as though he was a giant lab. Although in time Quincey learned not to run in the road and to poop outdoors, he was always a force not to be underestimated or reckoned with. Although some called him rat dog, caterpillar and toy pup. Quincey was not just any old lap dog. He ran outside all day and all night, barked as protection from squirrels to strangers and couldn’t ever fully go to sleep until all members of the Hill family were home, all while being dashingly charming and incredibly attractive. Anyone who ever met him knew how much he truly loved the belly rub. He loved the belly rub so much he would hug me with his little paws never wanting me to let go. He wanted to make sure I knew what love was, because he loved me very much. Quincey was named after Quincey Jones and for good reason he had the voice of a wolf howling at the moon a long drawl and soulful swag. When I was younger I would play my accordion and Quincey would howl along we were our own little band. As I grew up Quincey grew up with me he saw me off to college and missed me when I was in South Africa. But I always came back to give my boy a belly rub and take him on a walk to see the cows in our fields. One of the best parts about moving back home from college was being able to spend some quality time with Quincey again. I never realized that as I was getting older so was he although he never looked a day over three weeks old. I will say at times I did take him for granted. I got so used to him always being there sometimes I didn’t want to give him a belly rub or take him for a walk and I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t stop barking angrily. But when Quincey trachea collapsed this winter he sent me the message. The vet told me he didn’t think he would make it through the night. Quincey let me know that although he wants to be the ball of energy feisty pup he is he was getting old and needed me to take care of him as so. And I did I spoiled him and our relationship got stronger. Because I knew this just wasn’t any old dog that you put in a doghouse and give a bone. Quincey frolicked through woods, drank from natural springs, loved his family and extended family and was most definitely a gay black man in a past life. I am so grateful that Quincey made it through that night and we got to have the spring. Because it was during that time that I finally could hear and understand him and knew exactly what he was thinking. So I didn’t just give him a belly rub anymore I proudly became his personal message therapist. Quincey would follow me everywhere, and watched me hula hoop even though I know it made him dizzy and I will miss his presence so much. The day Quincey passed I was out the house until late at night. When I returned he was in his bed I walked over gave him a belly rub and kissed his furry face. He passed away minutes after. I am so happy he waited for me and said goodbye before going on to his next adventure, I wish I could come with.     

1 comment:

  1. Oh I am so sorry for your loss. What a nice eulogy. reminds us all to take time for our 4 legged friends.