We knew, right away, she was the dog for us.
It was July 2014, just a few months after my mum had passed away following two long battles with cancer. We’d driven for 4 hours down to a farm in the Scottish Borders, after my wife had spent hours doing her due diligence on the people we were going to see. We brought our son, then 12, down with us, and he sat in the back with a little basket and a blanket beside him.
The drive up to the farm was absurdly steep, along a ridiculously uneven and narrow track. I spent the entire climb pointing out how awful a road it was, and wondering why the hell anyone would live at the end of it. As we pulled up at the farm, I suggested we don’t mention my ten solid minutes of harsh criticism, so of course it was the first thing my wife said to the farmers when she stepped out of the car.
“My husband was just saying what a shocking road up to your house that is,” she said. I smiled through gritted teeth and laughed, not quite knowing where to look.
We all exchanged greetings, and then the parents were brought out – two gorgeous golden retrievers who both, quite frankly, look relieved to be away from the frenzied yapping that filled the house behind them. I met the father’s eye. Having just endured four hours of ‘Are we there yet?’ and with an over-excited 4-year-old waiting back home with her grandmother, I like to think we shared a moment of understanding.
And then, the pups were brought out. They exploded into the yard the moment the door was opened, golden balls of fluff running on unsteady legs, tumbling over one another, tails wagging, excited yelps splitting the air. The bolder ones pushed their way to the front, demanding pats and scritches, and offering sandpaper-tongued licks in return.
At the rear of the pack, holding back, was the puppy we’d come to collect. We’d watched her grow through videos and photos in the weeks before, and I think the breeders were a little disappointed that she was hanging back, content to let her brothers and sisters get all the attention, while she sniffed around and watched us from afar.
They told us we could take any of the others instead, if we wanted.
Of course, we didn’t.
On the drive home, she both vomited and peed on our son. He didn’t complain. And our daughter, upon seeing her, emitted a screech of joy so high-pitched that it was only the reaction from the dog, with her finely turned ears, that told us it was even happening.
A name was decided on – Quinn – and like that, we had a new member of the family.
Over the next few years, she was, like all dogs, a loveable nuisance. She’d eat things she shouldn’t, bark at the most inappropriate of times, and once ran excitedly at a Chinese lady, who screamed and threw herself into a ditch before Quinn made it to within fifty yards of her.
She would also curl up on the couch beside us all, and when I was working at home, she’d follow me through to my makeshift office, and lie beneath my feet while I wrote. She was never not excited to see us, and doubly so if there was even a whiff of food about us.
One of her adventures, getting lost in the woods, inspired the idea for A Litter of Bones. Meg, the Golden Retriever in that book, is based on Quinn. She is Quinn, in fact, aside from in name. Without Quinn, there would likely be no DCI Logan, no Tyler Neish, or Bob Hoon, or any of the rest of them. She inspired a whole universe, and never knew it.
Even when she broke her leg a few years ago, it didn’t dampen her spirits. The vet hospital in Glasgow was able to save the leg, but movement became more difficult, and she was never allowed to have the same freedom to run the hills after that.
As she grew older, she came to prefer the comforts of home. In the last few months, she wasn’t keen to go outside, and despite pain and anxiety medication, her quality of life really started to slide. She struggled to get up onto the couch to be beside us. She spent more and more time taking herself away during the day to hide in corners, or cower from the wind, while her nights were spent pacing the house, trying to find somewhere to get comfortable. We’d find her in strange corners, clearly unsettled, and she’d lie there for a while, battling exhaustion, before finally getting up.
After much heartache, and several lengthy discussions with Quinn’s vet, we took the incredibly hard decision to put her to sleep. Her temperament was starting to change, becoming more irritable and prone to growling. My life has been built around stories, and we couldn’t bear the thought of Quinn’s story ending badly.
Our son came up from Edinburgh to spend a final few days with her. He stayed home when we took her to the vet, entertaining his little sister as she battled through the tears.
My wife and I took Quinn in together. I knelt beside her, patting her, while my wife lay on the floor behind her, curled up together, Quinn’s weight against her. We said our goodbyes, and then, she was gone. Our gorgeous, idiotic, careless, carefree, demanding, generous, loveable, and relentlessly loving girl, was gone.
The last few weeks without her has been hard. The house feels empty. The cat continues to pace around, meowing in all the spots Quinn used to lie, like she’s trying to work out where her pal has gone. I wish we could explain it to her, but we still don’t quite understand it ourselves.
Also, she’s a cat. They’re notoriously hard to explain things to.
2024 started badly, with my son’s accident in San Diego, and though we were hoping it would at least go out on a high, this final gut punch meant that won’t be the case. I’ll miss my writing buddy. We’ll all miss her desperately. But, at the end of the day, she spent her entire life surrounded by people who loved her, and she loved them all back. And what more can we really ask for than that?
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JD, you have made me laugh out loud so many times. Today, you have made me cry. Everyone who has ever lost a four-legged family member will understand your sadness. May 2025 be less traumatic for you all
Christmas Day and I’m in tears. We lost our wee dog a few years ago just before Christmas so I know your pain. You have wonderful memories to cherish she’s gone from your touch but not your heart or your memories. I hope you and your family have a lovely Christmas, you deserve it.
I am so sorry for your families loss! In 2023 we lost both of our Great Danes within six months of each other. I still miss them and wish I could change it. It does get better. But somehow these creatures become a part of us, and it like missing a limb. But, it gets better. Have a lovely holiday, and think of her in happy and loving times.
Kim J
Absolutely heartbreaking. Nothing else needs to be said.
Where do I start after reading that. Struggling a little to breathe properly as it was like reading our own thoughts about our mollie who we had to say goodbye to just a little over 2 months ago. This will be our first Xmas without her and she was 12 when we said goodbye. She was in pain and grouchy a lot and today when my partner picked our other dogs up one by one and said they were daddy’s little babies” and my heart ached as mollie should have been there to get picked up and called that and then in her true style growl as her dad gave her a big kiss she hated that lol. Our thoughts are with you and your family xx
I am so sorry to hear of your loss of Quinn. I was in tears reading your blog as I considered how hard it must have been to write about her in the past tense. My heart goes out to you and yours including the cat. I am a golden retriever mum and know how much you are losing as well as how much she gave you. xx
Nice to read this. My 14 and a half year old whippet was put to sleep 4 days ago. Heartbreaking. On the last day she was too weak to get up to eat or even take a treat. She loved eating. But still when I went outside she forced herself up and followed me. Dogs are great, Luna was extra great.
Quin will always be in your family`s hearts as our lost dogs are, thinking of you.
So sorry to read about Quinn. She was clearly A Very Good Dog. I’m giving my little black poodle Shuck an extra woodge and thinking of you all.
We said our final goodbye to our first golden just before Christmas last year. It was one of the worst days of our lives. He was a few weeks away from his 13th birthday and, we’d like to think he had a good life. His favourite place was our wee beach here in Onich and our wee hill. We selected a stone from the beach and engraved it with his silhouette and placed it on the cairn at the top of the hill as well as scattering his ashes in Loch Linnhe where he swam most days. As soon as I read the opening chapter of Litter of Bones , I knew, from your vivid description, that you must have a golden. You could have been describing our Benton. It is so hard to lose such a gentle companion. My thoughts are with you and your family x
So sorry for the loss of your beloved dog Quinn i know how hard losing a pet can be. I so hope 2025 will be a much happier year for you and your family. Happy Christmas
So very sorry to read this. I had to make the same heartbreaking decision on 11th December for my dog Taffy, who was the most beautiful 10 year old cocker/cavalier cross. He only recently became unwell, going downhill very suddenly. It’s always a difficult time and Christmas exacerbates feelings. Thinking of you all, take care. Xx
My 13 1/2 year old Golden Retriever died in May of this year. It’s still extremely difficult these many months later. I bought another Golden the end of September. He hasn’t replaced Jake, but has helped me through the mourning. My thoughts and prayers go out to you and your family
RIP lovely inspiring Quinn. Thank you for putting the idea into your Dad’s head, we love you so much for that. It’s a heart breaking time for all the family, but you have so many memories to ease the pain. I’ll be giving Widget and Polgara – our 2 spaniels – extra cuddles tonight. We never know how long we have them for and have to cherish every day.
May Quinn rest in peace. My 15-year old Yorkie, Sebastian, is nearing when I will to have to make that heart-breaking decision. Such a difficult time. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.
I’m really sorry for your loss. It sounds like Quinn was a much loved member of your family, just as all dogs should be. I’m sure you gave her a lovely life. Saying goodbye to a much loved pet is never easy xx
So sorry for your loss JD.Our beloved pets give us so much joy and happiness when they are with us,so much pain and heartache when they are gone.Such an empty space left behind but forever in our hearts.
The first JD Kirk writings I wish I’d not read. I am so sorry for your families loss. We have lost 3 wonderful, loving dog companions and 2 beautiful, purring furballs in the last few years and the pain is still raw. I read of others losing fur babies here and just can’t stop the tears. We are all missing our companions and friends. My sympathies go out to your family as well as to your readers who have shared their losses here.
What a beautiful girl Quinn is, your hearts must be aching so deeply. Our dogs are such soulful and beautiful creatures, we are so lucky to share our lives with them.
Heart goes out to you and your family. Be strong and remember all the good times x
Well written tribute to a beautiful girl. We are dreading the day we have to make the same loving decision. Our beloved Lucy is just over 17 and we know our time together is short. The dog we never wanted. I got a phone call one Saturday morning asking if we could take an emergency foster, she has never gone anywhere else. She still is bright, loves her food, loves to toddle around our yard, loves us & yes still likes to watch TV. My sincere condolences on your girls passing. Merry Christmas & may 2025 be better for all of us.
JD, I feel for you and your family in your time of loss. And thank Quinn for inspiring your DCI Logan books, without which we would all be much poorer.
Watching a pet slowly slipping into decline is hard. I said goodbye to Lucky Bob, my adopted companion and chick magnet in 2018. I found a vet who would come to the house and put him to sleep as he was in pain and did not want to be picked up. It took six months before I could think about another dog, but I found one at the pound, looking sad, with a “Get me out of here” look on his face. After showing me no fence was too high for him to jump, he ran away the first day, crossing busy four lane roads, but he was miraculously found again, passed out after a long run, and renamed Runner. He is now my constant companion.
Wishing you a well deserved and wonderful holiday in California.
I know how heartbreaking the loss of Quinn is for you and your family, JD. It took time to curb my emotions enough to write to you. We lost our 20+ year old darling Rat Terrier Rosie three years ago and I lost part of myself when I lost her. The kids moved on with their lives and it was just me and Rosie. Now it’s me and a sweet girl Rat Terrier named Bella, but like Quinn was to the Hutchinson Family, there will never be another Rosie. Quinn made her indelible mark on your lives and thank you for sharing it with us here and in your stories. Jon Steward from the American news comedy “The Daily Show” tells the touching life story of his dog Dipper and hopes we all have the good fortune to find that one “Good Boy” in our lives.
My first dog was a Golden Retriever, called Bracken. I worked with him a lot and he was trained to a very high standard. I had him for 10 years but had to have him put down when he started to lose the power to his back legs. Since then I have been extremely lucky in having a Westie, a flat coated Retriever, a Labrador, 3 Saint Bernards, and now a Yorkie. You always remember them and the love that they showed you. Although a Saint jumping on your lap can have unimaginable consequences 😂. Aye, they are man’s best friends.
I’m stroking my Geo’s head, hoping he’ll make it through to the new year, and completely understand.
He’s a weechon, but 16¾, which is Methuselah for them, and I know I need to let him go, but it’s so hard 🥺
So sad but you said in your blog she spend her entire life being loved by her family and in return loving them back. There can be no finer epitaph than that for a life. Remembrance is love.
I’m so sorry for your loss of Quinn. I can identify with the gut punch which is the emptiness of losing a beloved family member. We lost our two 15 year old pups in one month in November. The last few weeks have been so hard. Thank you for your blog about Quinn. Seasons Greetings to you and your family.
We’ve never spoken directly but we’ve been on the same Amz page a few times and I know we have several mutual acquaintances. Like Quinn, I have a 4 legged companion that provides support and inspiration for my fictional canines. She is the third dog we’ve had in 30 years. I know exactly what you’re going through. To give dogs a lifespan of 10 or 12 years is a cosmic joke in very bad taste. You won’t forget Quinn; but you have been able to give her the gift of release. It’s the least we can do in the end. Good dog Quinn. R.I.P
So sorry, it’s so hard to part with them. Our old dog, Cooper is 17 and blind, but he doesn’t let it bother him too much. The vet assures us that apart from arthritis he is in fine health. He still enjoys his daily walk, food and inspecting all visitors. He is the last of a long line of rescue dogs. We are too old now for another, (did I just say that?).
Anyway, all the best for the season and hope you will be back writing soon with a new puppy to keep you company.
I am very sorry to read of your loss, having had two Goldie’s a brother and sister myself I know how much it’s hurts to let them go. We had our girl for 13 years and our boy for 15 years. Saying goodbye was the hardest thing. My thoughts are with you and your family as you try to adjust to the loss of you beloved Quinn. Your blog was a lovely tribute to her.
I feel your pain. Sending love.
Our 14 year old Daisy the dachshund died in her sleep a short while ago, she rarely woofed, let us know in her own voice when she was hungry , wanted to pee or just needed a fuss, she tolerated the attentions of our younger dog with dignity and even taught him how to use her voice skills. Today we miss her eyes watching and waiting for Christmas meat, picture her in our minds eyes racing across the park ,ears and tail in flight. Here’s hoping you and yours can capture and hold the joy Quinn gave you even at this sad time,as we do for Daisy
How wonderful that you had such a happy and loving member of the family for so many years. I hope the good memories will give you some comfort as you miss Quinn every day.
You made me cry with this. Great, heaving sobs from deep down inside. I understand your pain so well. We’ve rescued Dobermans for 40+ years and with every goodbye, it’s been heartbreaking, but saying goodbye to my Murphy Boy in March, 2023 broke me. There’s always that one dog that has something none other will ever have and he did. I had his paw tattooed on my forearm because when he laid by my side, that’s where his paw rested always. It still gives me comfort to put my hand over it. Makes him feel near. We’ve rescued a new boy and have had him a little over a year. We love him to bits, but he is his own man and won’t be Murphy. We wouldn’t expect him to be. When the time is right, you need to love another dog. They all need to be loved, just like we do. Hugs to your family.
I’m a 64 year grizzled old man, seen it all, done it all, hard as nails and am sitting blubbing like a a bairn. Make the next e-mail a bit more cheery please.
I could barely get through wriitng this I smiled and cried reading your tribute. I’m so sorry for the loss of your beloved Quinn. We’ve always had dogs and the love and support they show us is immeasurable. But they, like your Might Quinn,will live forever through our memories and pictures. She was loved and she knew it. Find comfort in that fact. And what greater tribute than being in one of your fabulous books. Hugs from across the miles to the whole family..and the cat too.
I am so sorry. What a wonderful beginning, and what a wonderful life she had. When I collected my Mavis (black labrador, built like a refrigerator) two years ago, she vomited all over me at the beginning of our initial 3-hour journey. Thank goodness it was only watermelon she tossed, but I’ll remember that sticky discomfort forever! Dogs bring such joy, and such profound sadness when they leave us, always way too soon.
What a beautiful tribute to an important member of your family. You all gave her a wonderful life and ushered her out with all the dignity and love you could muster, and in the end that’s all we can ever do. It’s hard not to feel selfish at these points in our beloved pets’ lives, hoping you can hold on to them for just one more day – but you put her needs above your own to make this difficult decision and ensure she didn’t unduly suffer. It was the ultimate act of love. I’ll think of her with every Logan book I read and thank her for inspiring such creativity. Good girl, Quinn.
The only fault dogs have is that they don’t live forever.
For all of us who have been there, the story of your Quinn is a reminder again of just how poignant and special the life of a dog is, to the humans who love them.
(In honour of all of these dogs that have not been able to live forever, I humbly request that Taggart remains ageless and forever alive within your books 😄.)