Love, Loss and Moving Forward: Huxley – Remembering My Beautiful 4-legged Boy

Two years have passed, but it still feels like yesterday. The weight of losing Huxley hasn’t lifted; it’s settled deep into my heart, a constant presence that reminds me of all the love, chaos, and loyalty we shared. It’s two years ago this weekend when my heart broke in ways I didn’t know were possible, and I’ve experienced a lot of heartbreak in my life. This was different though. The love I had for Huxley, and still have, is a testament to the enduring bond we shared.

Huxley stormed into my life like a force of nature. He was untamed, headstrong, and brimming with energy. A whirlwind wrapped in a Pitbull's body. He tested my patience, pushed my limits, and brought me to tears, especially during times when I could least afford the added stress of his audacious antics. But those tears eventually turned to laughter as we witnessed his remarkable transformation. He was far from perfect, but he was mine—my fiercely loving, unwaveringly loyal companion who never let me face a single moment alone.

Our bond was unbreakable, our battles of will almost comical, and our love, unquestionable. 

The loss of Huxley was a devastating blow, one I could never have prepared for. It wasn’t just saying goodbye to a dog but parting with a piece of myself, a constant in my life who had seen me through so much. The silence he left behind is deafening; his voice was as big as his goofy personality. He departed at a time when my whole world seemed to be crumbling. I was unable to walk him due to my anxiety and panic attacks, and Brian had to take over entirely. Huxley always knew when I wasn’t okay and would stay by my side, loyal and faithful until the end, just as I was with him. I gave everything I had, and even things I didn’t, to try to save his life, but it was his time to go. The pain still feels fresh, as if it happened just yesterday. 

Time-Blindness and Non-Linear Moments

That’s one of the blessings/curses of ADHD - Time Blindness. Our concept of time and distance differs from most of the population’s experience, we don’t feel time passing, it isn’t linear, and we have object-oriented drives. While this helps us maintain forward vision (creative problem solving), it also means that experiences that caused us immense emotional pain, regardless of how long ago, can feel like they happened yesterday. That’s how I feel today; it's like it happened just yesterday. I know it didn’t because his ashes sit beside me, where he always was, watching over the cats.

A few months after he had gone, I started browsing shelters, knowing that one day I would see a face and know we have something to give each other. Dogs and cats are sacred, a gift to humans who offer one or some of the little critters a home. They can bring so much joy, happiness, and healing in the right environment, and it isn’t a one-way relationship. They are more intelligent and more empathetic than many of us give them credit for and through evolution, for whatever selfish and bizarre reason, they chose us. They muscled their fury bodies, sharp claws, bitey mouths, humorous and very communicative behaviours, into our hearts. Brian asked me to wait a while. He conceded that a dog would appear in our lives one day, and he would have little say it would just be coming home. I didn’t want to replace Huxley, and while I would love nothing more than to be able to rescue all the pitbulls in the shelters, I understand our New York City, 650 sq ft apartment, with two grown adults and two needy yet feisty cats is not the right environment. I knew I wasn’t ready. I am now.

Honoring Huxley and Choosing our New Companion

We decided to shop instead of adopt, which I never imagined myself doing. We did so because my needs, our needs, have changed quite dramatically. If Huxley taught me anything, it’s that with the best will in the world sometimes your dog is a stubborn arsehole and if they’ve experienced trauma and you make a wrong decsion in how you react, it set’s the whole thing back. I took time to research breeds. While I’m a sucker for a shelter dog (&cats), I need a support partner that shows the right temperament to help me.

I spoke at length with professionals who suggested it would be better to adopt a younger pup that has exhibited a specific set of skills within that breed, and then raise them in my environment. I appreciated the expert insights and feedback from responsible breeders, who cared as much as we did about doing this right. I will know my new companion’s family history and predictive trait potential. This is a lot harder to do in a shelter. Training a service/support animal is an expensive and time-consuming process, it takes a huge amount of emotional investment and leaves little room for failure.

How ADHD++ has Impacted our Journey to Finding a New Canine Companion

Over the last decade, the symptoms of my ADHD have been misdiagnosed, mistreated, rediagnosed, and correctly treated, this has taken a significant toll on my cognitive functioning and my overall well-being. With my diagnosis and better understanding, I was coached through re-engagement, refocused attention and purpose with positive, strengths-based coaching techniques at Work Bigger and Skill Cycle. While I can articulate my strengths more effectively, I’m also able to own and acknowledge my not-strengths too; the die-hard habits that trip me up in my personal, behind the scenes, unmasked, unfiltered existence. That people refuse to believe exist. Because I don’t look like I’m "disabled", or don’t seem like I have ADHD. I mean we're all a little forgetful right? (Not like this they aren't) 

I have a specific set of needs behind the scenes, which we have decided to share glimpses of. We want to normalise some of the hidden difficulties not just for people with neurodivergence of any form, but also people with other diagnosed differences that face similar ableism, stigma, or disability blindness.

Our Story Continues

The last few months have seen me starting to slip on my routines, I’ve been more forgetful, reactive, stressed, demotivated, my environment reflects that. We knew it was almost time. Last month, I continued looking, I saw a face and knew. It was the same with Huxley. I saw him and I knew.

Her name on the photo was Baby. I immediately thought… “Nobody puts baby in the corner”…Dirty Dancing is one of my all-time favourites…. That’s not why she was named Baby, it turns out, but the description of her personality contained a key word/descriptor that told me she had the skills and personality potential we were looking for to give us the best chances of success.

A support animal shouldn’t be there to carry the burden of our emotions, instead it’s a partner that leads the way and predicts/provides when we need that extra support. A service partner (dog), will ultimately need to be able to “work” in all types of public and private environments, they need to be friendly, yet attentive to the human they support, and most importantly, must be well-trained and able to perform their duties without negative, disruptive or anti-social public behaviours, like peeing inside a resuarant or nipping at people/other dogs. The right dog and home environment is the foundation to a successful partnership full of rewards for all of us.

We knew she was the right dog when I sent Brian a screenshot of her profile, and for the first time ever, he responded with a heart emoji. My impulse control disorder, dopamine deficient brain, and trigger fingers, ensured she was the one, while he was napping on the sofa.

Mixed Emotions and Moving Forward

Now, as we prepare to bring Saga into our life, that’s what we’re calling her, the emotions are complicated. It’s bittersweet—because this isn’t about replacing Huxley. No dog ever could; his soul is deeply embedded in a place held only for him, he touched so many lives in bizarre and profound ways, and taught me lessons that only ADHD FAFO could.

Saga is coming into our world for a different reason, to walk beside me in a role that neither Huxley nor I could ever fully be for each other. She isn’t coming to fill a space, she is coming to write her own story, a new saga, and to help me re-write mine for myself and other people who have needs that they hide, so we can show people different ways to cope and adjust.

Huxley’s legacy will always be part of this journey. Before we welcome our new storyteller and begin to share our training journey, this weekend my thoughts, memories, tears and laughter were entirely dedicated to the “little man” I miss every day. Huxley’s spirit is here to guide us both, to help me do better, to help her understand our needs and us her, and to remind us that love and patience, even when tangled in chaos, is always worth it. 

Hux - You were a naughty, demanding, whirlwind of a dog, but you were mine, and I was yours. And I will always, always miss you.

💙