My Best Friend

I stopped posting regularly after describing our 5-day, 14-hour trip home from the hospital for a few reasons. Eventually I hope to cover more of them, but one of the biggest was this post. I wasn’t ready to write it for a long time and it’s still hard to get out now, but before I could move forward, this was something I had to do. It’s a lengthy one and it’s okay if you don’t read it; I just felt like I had to acknowledge it.

When we got home, Ross was a week old and everything was so wonderful, so new. That first morning in our own home I woke up to the sound of his cry and practically floated on clouds as I walked over to the pack n’ play. I will never forget how blissful it felt to lean over and pick up my son before carrying him back to bed to cuddle with him while he ate. I thought my heart would burst out of my chest.

But even in the midst of the joy, there was pain. When we had stopped at my parents’ house on our journey home, we discovered that our dog, Orion, was not well. They had mentioned a vet trip during a phone call about a week or so prior as we waited for Ross’s arrival, but nothing had prepared me for… this. As soon as I saw him, I knew it was over. Within a split second, my emotions went from the elation of putting Ross in my grandma’s arms for the first time to the complete and utter devastation of knowing I was about to lose my best friend. The shock of it took my breath away and my legs collapsed underneath me.

Kyle and I went upstairs with Orion to make the decision I had been dreading since the day I brought him home as a puppy, and I missed seeing my dad and grandma meet my son. We both cried as we took turns gently holding Orion’s tiny, broken body. I could barely breathe from the pain. The decision was clear– he wouldn’t even be able to handle the 2 1/2 hour drive home the next day. It was one of the worst moments of my life.


And then by the morning, he perked up. He wasn’t back to normal, but we started to hope that maybe this wasn’t the end, maybe we’d get to have a little time as a family of four after all. We stayed an extra night with my parents before completing the last leg of our trip.

Those first days with Ross finally at home felt blissful in so many ways– but not carefree. Inside I felt as though I was walking on eggshells, terrified that the smallest movement would bring everything crashing down. I was acutely aware that time was short. The clock was ticking; I just didn’t know when it would stop.

Three days after getting home, Orion quietly turned 15 years old. I had wanted to make a thing of it, but now the circumstances didn’t feel right. Instead, I gave him a few of his favorite treats and spent the day cuddling with my two babies. I loved seeing them together– it was something I had pictured so many times throughout my life. Orion was always going to be the first dog my children knew. He was meant to be there, keeping watch by their highchairs for stray bits of food and scurrying out of the way as they took their first wobbly steps. I knew he wouldn’t live forever, but he should have had several years as a ‘family dog’ by the time we had to say goodbye to him. I just never thought it would take so long to have a family.

Ross with his big brother, Orion, on the morning of his 15th birthday

Two days after Orion’s birthday he took another sharp turn for the worse: now he couldn’t easily move or lay down without crying out in horrible pain. Watching him suffer was agonizing, and we decided to find a vet near our new place and book an appointment first thing in the morning. My mom came up to watch Ross so Kyle and I could both go to the vet, even though we had originally wanted some space to bond with our baby alone for the very first time in his existence (we didn’t have the advantage of having him “baked in-house,” as my friend Arwen would say). Knowing we would likely come back without Orion, I asked her to take the first and last picture of us as a family of four.

Holding our boys, each wrapped in their blankets

To my relief, the vet was hopeful that trying something new might buy us a little more time since it was difficult to determine the underlying cause. And, desperate for any other option, we jumped at the chance. He prescribed us a new medication, wished us luck, and told us to call him if anything changed.

But the next three days were horrible. Orion’s pain never let up, and he needed someone to hold him still every moment of the day and night. He could barely eat or drink. He couldn’t sleep. Kyle was trying to focus on catching up on the classes he’d missed as we traveled home following Ross’s birth, so my mom and I alternated between taking round-the-clock care of Orion and Ross, the far easier of the two. Although Kyle had spent the last 10 years with Orion, he was mine first. The final, horrible decision was mine to make. And while I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, there was no way I could continue to let him suffer. I called the vet back in defeat and made an appointment for the following evening while tears streamed down my face. We had one last night together.

Holding both of my babies

Tuesday, February 9th, Ross was just 16 days old when we left him with my mom as we bundled Orion into his favorite blanket and out into the cold night air. For months now as we anticipated Ross’s impending arrival, I had been reassuring Orion that he would always be my first baby, and that is what I whispered to him again as we walked to the car through the falling snow. Every step I took felt against my will.

Holding Orion in the vet’s office and waiting for the inevitable was even worse than I had imagined. They gave him a sedative to help calm him and then left us alone for several minutes to say goodbye. As I carried Orion back to the chair next to Kyle for those last moments together, the room started to tilt around me and for a moment, I thought the floor was going to fly up and hit me in the face. My ears rang and I felt sick to my stomach. We talked to him as his eyes began to close, telling him what a good dog he had been and how much we loved him, promising him that my Grandpa would be waiting for him on the other side. I held him close as his body eventually went limp against me and his raspy breathing became slow and steady. It was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt; he was there and yet not there. It seemed like a horrible betrayal, bringing him there for something he could not understand. Briefly I let myself imagine wrapping him back up in his blanket and running out into the night. It hasn’t happened yet, part of my brain reasoned, I can still change my mind. Instead I forced myself to stay seated and go through with it, wondering how it was possible to hope that the vet would both hurry up and also that he would forget about us.

Orion has been in my life since before he was even born. While I was in 8th grade, my best friend’s dogs were expecting puppies, their last litter. Early in the morning on February 3, 2001, the call came that the puppies had been born. Alisha had been spending the night at my house, so my mom drove us back to her house for our first look. There were three of them: two boys and a girl, and they were so tiny! Each one was just a few inches long, maybe a couple ounces in weight, and still completely pink with hardly any hair. I was in awe of them, never dreaming that one of them would become my best friend as they huddled together with their eyes still closed, .

I loved watching the puppies grow over the next weeks when I went over to Alisha’s house. I’d laugh as they skittered all over the hardwood floors in the kitchen and peek out at us from underneath the table. The girl was claimed first, and then one of the boys. Only the runt was left, and I saw an opportunity. I promised my dad that I would pick up after him in the backyard and feed him every single day. “Are you sure you want to take care of this dog until you’re 30 years old?” he asked me. At 13 that seemed like a lifetime away, but I was sure.

The first night he came home, I slept nearby him on the kitchen floor with a sleeping bag and a tap light (remember those?), but once he was housebroken he ended up in my bed, a habit that lasted for the rest of his life.

Orion sleeping on the kitchen floor in his new home
Orion at 2 months old

Sometimes I’m still surprised that my parents agreed to have Orion join our family (as perhaps was expected, my dad ended up picking up the yard after all). But, they had watched my life change just a year before when severe chronic pain became part of my life and a surgery confirmed my endometriosis. I think they recognized companionship and stability for me in him, and he was just what I needed. Over the years as my health worsened and the surgeries and diagnoses continued to stack up, Orion was always there. He never minded spending the bad days cuddling next to me in bed; in fact, he preferred it that way.

Experimenting with a new hairdo; 2 months old
Out in the backyard after school (thanks to my little sister for cutting my head off in this photo); 4 months old
2001; Orion kept me company as I was still recovering from my ruptured appendix (those are knee socks from my school uniform, by the way)

Leaving him with my parents when I went to college was painful. For my first year away, I sent him a package of treats to make up for missing his birthday. On summer and holiday breaks, we’d fall right back into our routine: Orion would lay down by my knees while I read before bed, and as soon as I put down my book, he’d sit up, wait for me to settle again, and then curl up next to my stomach to sleep. Before I’d leave to go back to school, I’d often find him sitting on top of my bags in hopes of keeping me home. The first time Kyle came back with me he was mostly amused at meeting Orion, who was protective despite his size and not quite ready to accept someone new into our lives. Eventually they grew to love each other too.

Little bed buddy
Memory Card 2 128
Birthday boy; 2008
Kyle & Orion; 2011
Anderson Family; 2011
Halloween 2012
1148919_698562463745_525781294_n (1)

When I look back on so many hardships, milestones, and events in my life, Orion is always there. He was there for me during my first break up and all through the rough days of high school, when my tears would soak into his fur. He was waiting for me to come home from the hospital after every surgery besides the very first. For every move to a new place, he sat on my lap in the car. He celebrated with me when I graduated from middle school, high school, and college. He was next to me when the Red Sox won the World Series in 2004 for the first time in 86 years. He was there when I got ready for dinner the night Kyle and I became engaged and while I did my makeup for our wedding. When my grandpa was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer in 2010, Orion stayed faithfully by his side as he recovered from brain surgery. The last words my grandpa said to me just before he died were about him: “nice fellow,” he breathed, when I held Orion up to his bedside. And the hell of infertility, Orion was there for that too.

We were peas in a pod, the two of us. I could read his every expression and understand his every bark. We grew up together.

College Graduation
Post-wedding Photos; 2009
August 2015
December 2015

I know that no amount of wishing would have kept him alive forever. He had lived a long life and our story was always going to end with goodbye. But I hate that it came so close on the heels of Ross’s birth. After so many years full of loss, that was supposed to be our time of celebration. Instead, a fresh loss brought new grief that seeped into everything. I was torn between relief that they’d had the chance to meet and guilt that I’d left Orion for almost three weeks as we waited for Ross’s arrival. I wondered if he gave up on life because he believed I was never coming home or if he had felt replaced during the last days we had with him.

My inability to deal well with grief is one of my biggest personal weaknesses. I haven’t managed to figure out the balance between letting the pain consume me and trying to avoid as much of it as possible by hiding my feelings away. I didn’t know how to process the mix of extreme emotions in February, so after a day or two of crying at the sight of his things and struggling to sleep without him curled up next to me, I let myself pretend like it never happened just to get through. Instead of dealing with it, I put away his sweaters, his blanket, his bed. I let myself imagine that he was staying somewhere else. And then somehow almost six months passed without him, and here we are. I miss him.


32 thoughts on “My Best Friend

  1. Oh Ashley….my heart aches over every word in this post. Thank you for sharing these precious memories of Orion. He really was the best friend, the most faithful dog, for every day of his 15 years. So loyal, unconditionally loving, protective…and feisty 😉 I’m just coming up on 5 years with my dog Lusi and I often think about how hard it will inevitably be in the end to say goodbye… yes it will be, it is… every moment is precious. There is no doubt that Orion is in heaven with your grandpa. He truly was the nicest fellow. Love you, Caroline


    1. By the way… you are one of the strongest people I know. You have dealt with so much and there is no wrong way to grieve. So I just wanted to tell you that you are precious and encourage you because you are learning and growing and becoming stronger and wiser every day. Xo, C


    2. Dear Ashley, thanks for sharing this tribute of Orion. I can still hear his hoarse bark and see him stand up on his hind legs for a treat. For a while I wasn’t sure that he was going to make it before Ross was born, but I believe that he hung on until you came back. I treasured those last few weeks watching him knowing how much we would miss that little guy when it was his time. Love you.


    3. Thank you, Caroline. You always know just what to say, and I know you remember Orion when we all much younger. 🙂 Do you remember telling me once that Orion and I looked alike? When I asked you why you said it was because we both had small hands and feet, haha. I thought that was so hilarious and would remember it from time to time. I hope you have many, many more years with Lusi. Our buddies are so special. ❤


  2. My Dear Granddaughter, You have given the most beautiful tribute possible to a very special “one” in your life — Orion.. Thank you for sharing these deepest of feelings. I hope there is healing in reliving these precious moments. I love you! Gram


  3. Oh my goodness. I am so very sorry for your loss. As a fellow dog-mama I feel your pain and, like you did, I dread the day I have to say good bye to my girl. I had tears in my eyes reading this. I am so glad Orion and Ross were able to meet and you have photos of them together, and it seems like you gave Orion an amazing life and he loved you very much. It’s unfortunate that animals lives are so short compared to our own, but he did his job and brought you much joy and happiness, and you did yours and gave him a safe home and love. 😦


    1. Thank you. I feel the same; it is so hard that they have such relatively short life spans. When I got Orion and heard he could live up to 17-18 years, I thought that sounded like forever, but now it feels like such a short time. I hope you get to enjoy many more cuddles and kisses with your girl. ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Oh my, I cant stop crying. What a beautiful boy. He was so so lucky to have you. I can see and hear the love u have for him, and he had for u likewise. When we lost our 16 year old chi 2 years ago, it hurt so bad, worse than my miscarriages even. Its deep. Sending so much love.


    1. Thank you for understanding. It is hard sometimes to talk about it because I feel like there are a lot of people who just don’t get that a piece of my heart is now missing. And the timing made everything so much harder. Do you mind if I ask if you have another dog yet? The day we said goodbye to Orion I swore I would never put myself through that again. But, I would never have given up the life I had with him to avoid the pain of saying goodbye, so sometimes I think it’s worth going through. It’s hard… I don’t really know how to go about it and we can’t seem to agree on anything about getting another one. I just wondered how long it might be before we feel ready to find another dog to love.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. A lot of people dont understand that they truly are like a child. Its so so hard. We did get another dog, but it wasnt an easy decision for us. We went back and forth about the pros and cons like u. When it came down to it, we just needed another furball to love on. It took us about 4 full months. I highly recommend it but know it isnt for everyone. Just know that time will ease the pain (I never believed anyone when they said this), although it still hurts I can smile about him now. Thinking of you friend 💙


    1. I think you’re right. I was already afraid of not soaking up every single moment of that newborn time because I knew that it was probably our only shot and we had waited so long and been through so much to get there. I didn’t want to look back and only see grief during that time, and I didn’t want Ross to feel my grief– when I came home from the vet I held him and cried and he got upset and started crying too, so it probably would not have been good for any of us. Sometimes I feel like it was guilty of me to choose self-preservation and that he didn’t get the mourning he deserved, but I just did not know what else to do at the time. Thank you. ❤


  5. I have tears reading this. I’m so sorry Orion left you at this time, although I love that Orion and Ross did meet and you had the double cuddles. Our fur babies are just that, our companions, there for us through everything. Losing that love is very difficult. I’m loving all the photos…what a cutie pie, you are brave for sharing them with us – big hugs X


    1. Thanks, Dani. At first the pictures were really hard to look at, but overtime it has gotten a little easier. I am thinking of putting the one of the two of them in Ross’s nursery, and my sister also painted a canvas of Orion for him. It’s one of those things where I wish we had more time but I am also really grateful for the time we did have.


  6. It is so heart wrenching to loose a pet. Especially since you shared so many years together. You can be sure It was your love and care that Orin lived a long life.


  7. Tears Ashley….so many tears. I have a dog like Orion, Beau…and he has been through it all with me too. The way you described him was such a beautiful tribute to his life and how he has brought so much joy to your life. Those memories will always live on. He is with your grandpa now. So much love to you..thinking of you all…xoxo


  8. What a beautiful tribute post to a very adorable little dog. I have no words, only tears and a big hug to you. What a great companion and loyal friend Orion was to you for so many years. Losing a pet is incredibly heartbreaking… I’ve lost one this year as well, and it hurts just as much as a human loss. I am so grateful that you have such wonderful memories of Orion to reflect back on, and that you have at least one photo of you and Kyle with your two babies. Much love to you, my friend. xx


  9. I’m so sorry for your loss, Ashley. You have put it so beautifully in words, and the photos say even more than words. A big, big hug coming your way. xxx


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s