Growing up, I was always the girl who dreamt of getting a dog, not of getting married. In the end I did get married and it didn’t work out. The highlight of my marriage was meeting my first real love – a low-rider Corgi with a spirit like no other – I named her Quinny.
Everyone who met Quinny loved her. It was impossible for anyone – even the grumpiest, most miserable souls – not to smile when she strutted by on her two inch stubby legs with her sassy wiggle bum. She was pure Joy! I remember gangbangers driving by in their vintage car and calling out “Hey Low-Rider!” The same thing happened with tough mortorcyle riding men – they got such a kick out of her! And the hipsters at Figaro Bistrot loved her too. The one time she ran away – escaped from the backyard – she went around the corner to Figaro for croissant and Cafe au Lait!
I think of her often and I’m so grateful to her for sharing her spunky spirit with me.