Aiden

“Everyone thinks they have the best dog. And none of them are wrong.”

- W.R. Purche

It’s been almost three months since Aiden passed and life has been going at a crazy speed that hasn’t allowed me to truly grieve. Although, I began the process of grieving when he developed a large mass on his back in April. My dog had been pretty resilient during his 19 years of life. But something inside me knew we were nearing the end.

The shitty part is that every year that my birthday rolls around, I’ll remember it was the time I found out that he had cancer. I thought I had mentally prepared myself to hear the diagnosis from the veterinarian, but I don’t think you’re ever truly prepared. Dr. C was our vet for years and I could tell he didn’t want to give me the news. He told me to just make him as comfortable as possible and give him whatever he wants foodwise in his last days. As we sat on the floor and watched Aiden walk around in circles listlessly, the levee broke. I cried tears that I didn’t think I could cry because of my chronic dry eye.

They asked if I wanted to put him down that day. Since I was the only one who went to the appointment, I decided it was only right to give his grandparents time to process the news and to say goodbye.

My stepfather was in denial whenever Aiden would have little spurts of energy. He’d say, “The dog isn’t dying. Get a second opinion”. My mother and I would look at him like denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.

The decline from May 13th to Memorial Day was swift. I was with my boyfriend when I received a panicked phone call from my mother because Aiden’s mass had burst and he was bleeding everywhere. I made an appointment for that Tuesday due to the holiday to euthanize him. I couldn’t take the suffering anymore. He couldn’t take the suffering anymore. By that point I spent two weeks trying to get his grandparents to decide on cremation and euthanizing services.

By the time his mass burst, the only affordable option was The Humane Society. To be honest, it felt like a full circle moment. That’s where our journey began.

I was working at the airport while attending college and that was the first time I saw his face. I decided to randomly cruise The Humane Society’s website and I saw his picture. His floppy corgi-mix ears and bright eyes said “Love me”. I drove up to the Oceanside location to see him in person. He almost got left there doing all of that barking at passersby. I decided to take a look at a wiener dog named Hamburger, but there was no chemistry. A border collie named Cherry wasn’t readily available for adoption. So, I asked to see Aiden.

Aiden went to the potty then ran back to me. We locked eyes, he pawed my leg and I said, “I’ll take him”. When you know, you know. Right?

My stepfather drove up with me the next day to see “what kind of dog” I picked out. They doubted he was as cute as I said he was. He called my mom and said “He’s sooooo cute!”. I’m not sure why people thought I would pick a dog that wasn’t cute. That kind of charity is only reserved for my boyfriends.

Aiden taught me a lot about myself in our 14 years together. He taught me that I should never have human kids. And he taught me that sometimes you get kicked so many times that it becomes hard to trust…but eventually you find someone who won’t kick you.

Aiden was abused before he became my companion. It still makes me angry to think about how someone could do that to him. He was the sweetest and most mild mannered dog. How I came to realize this was his behavior when I would go to gently rub him with my feet if he was on the floor. The first time I did that, he flinched and I saw the fear in his eyes. I realized that I needed to keep showing him that it was my way of showing that I love him and I would never hurt him. I can’t tell you how long it took, maybe a few months for him to realize that I wouldn’t kick him but he got there. There was no defensive reaction. He would just lay his head down and sigh. Sometimes he would fall asleep.

I had an epiphany while flying home from my sister’s wedding in St. Louis: I’m a lot like an abused shelter dog when it comes to my love life. I’m trying to learn how to trust that I won’t be kicked. It’s hard but I hope that like Aiden learned to trust me, that I will learn to trust the person who truly tries to love me past my pain.

Thank you for letting me love you, Aiden.