Because of his all white fur, his moniker was Snowflake. Rather than changing his name, we changed languages. Qannik is Inuit for Snowflake. Pronounced Ka-NIK.
Q-Tip, Q, Qannikki, Qannikki-New, Pillsbury Dough Boy (though he has lost his baby fat and became much more muscular), Cotton Ball.
Came to us from the Haywood Animal Shelter July 14, 2007, as an owner surrender. We were not looking for another dog, but we were talking with the people at Sarge's Animal Rescue Foundation and they told us about this white Siberian Husky at the shelter. They asked if we would check on him to make sure he was ok, as they could not pick him up for a few days. When we saw him, he had scars around his neck from where a tie-out dug in, fly bites on his ears, scrapes on the right side of his nose, and the fur worn away from his back paws from standing on a suspended wire platform. His teeth were worn from chewing on wire trying to escape. Oh, yeah, and Kennel Cough and round worms. But most of all, what you saw was this giant grin on his face and all of the potential. How could we not take him right there on the spot?
Sweet, loving, and a lap dog (a challenge for a dog who often topped 60 pounds). Though he had clearly never been dog socialized (and struggled with dog to dog interaction outside of The Herd), he was energetic and loved wrestling and playing with The Herd. Few things upset him and he considered every thing to be a game. Clearly the Omega dog of the pack despite his constant vocal protests.
Constant chatter while playing. A growly, rumbly, wooing voice. The boy never quite heard enough from himself and believed everyone needed to hear what he had to say. Periodically, Kiska could be heard telling him to shut up.
Where he sleeps
For the longest time, wherever everyone else decided, but adopted his crate is his safe spot. And, yes, he snored. Loudly.
Where he rides in the car
The very back because he loved looking at people in the car behind us.
Cuddling, wrestling with his brothers, talking, annoying Kiska.
Q was always a medical mystery. He came to us with kennel cough and a weird urinary tract infection that took several rounds and some ancient medicines (for real, the pharmacist had to look it up) to cure. He battled skin issues and hot spots. Through it all, he maintained that happy-go-lucky smile and just let us treat whatever we needed to treat. When we discovered he had a splenic mass, we knew our time was quite limited. We enjoyed the last days in Q's usual, infectious, happy way until he told us it was time. He went to sleep in Hu-Dad's arms September 7 2018 while being told what a good boy he was. You can read our tribute to him here.