Éomer's Life Story
Written By Margaret Éowyn
Introduction
Éomer Éadig Clementine-Newton was born on (approximately) March 29th, 2014. He was presumed to be born in Indianapolis, Indiana, where he was rescued from a dog-fighting ring when he was around 2 years old. A mix of primarily American Staffordshire Terrier & Shar-Pei, Éomer was bred for dog fighting because of his breed mix, which left him with a lifelong negative reaction to small animals such as squirrels, raccoons, possums, and cats. We believe he may have been used as a bait dog as well, because when he was rescued, he was in very poor condition according to his intake work from his initial rescue.
When he was taken in by Indianapolis Animal Care Services, he was given the name Max and adopted out two separate times. Both times he was returned, as the families stated that he had too much energy for them and that he did not get along with their cats. Éomer spent three long stretches in I.A.C.S. and was reaching the point of no return, as there was little to no interest in a beat-up young dog who was not cat friendly and assumed to be not dog friendly as well, and he was close to being euthanized due to I.A.C.S. being at capacity.
2017
In February of 2017, I (Margaret Éowyn) went to I.A.C.S. to look for a dog. At the time, I was in a deep depression and the quality of my life and state of mind were at an all-time low. I had been planning on ending my life but thought that I would try to find something to live for. I had never owned my own dog, only helped care for family dogs growing up, and I thought that perhaps owning a pet might give me a reason to continue on.
Originally I went to I.A.C.S. to look at a black lab puppy named Dallas (I still remember him, even all these years later, because going to look for him led me to the dog that would be my son) but when I met him I didn't think I had the time or means to properly take care of such a young dog. I wandered through the kennels for an hour or so, taking out other dogs to meet and play with, but I just didn't feel a connection with any of them. In a final attempt to find a dog, I took one last lap through the kennels. On my way out, having given up, a dog popped up at the gate of a nearby kennel with a smile on his face and a caught my attention with a bark and a twinkle in his eye that showed the depth of his spirit, betraying the look of his emaciated and worn-out body. He weighed only 27 pounds that day, though when he finally got healthy in the following months, he would get close to 60 pounds.
His name was Max, a thoroughly stupid name for such a majestic young boy and utterly unbefitting someone of his nobility and handsomeness. Despite his completely wrong name, he immediately struck me as a sweet and joyous dog, and I asked to take him outside to meet him. I could tell that the staff were already annoyed with me, but they indulged me a final time. I went outside with him and played with him for nearly twenty minutes before a staff member told me that they would need to put him back up in his kennel soon. I told them that didn't need to happen, and I went to the front to adopt him.
I paid $65.00 to adopt him but realized I hadn't bought all the things I needed to care for him yet. I asked the staff if, having paid for him already, they could hold him for one hour so I could go to a nearby pet store and get everything I needed. They humored me and agreed and I rushed off. I over-drafted my bank account by nearly $300.00 buying toys, leashes and collars, harness, a bed, and a crate, as well as a myriad of treats, food, and random dog stuff.
During that time, I considered what to rename him, as there was no way in hell, I was going to call my new son Max. He needed a name befitting a noble and brave dog, a name that resounded with who he was. He had been bred for fighting. He had been bred to be aggressive, to hurt and harm, and yet despite that, he was sweet and kind (I would learn in later years that despite his upbringing, he held no aggression towards humans or dogs and was one of the friendliest dogs I would ever know). He had faced abuse, faced attacks, faced homelessness, faced abandonment, faced long months alone in a kennel with no one to call his own. He had faced darkness and come out the other side strong & resilient, hardened yet not cruel, and become all the better for the trials and tribulations he faced.
I thought of characters I loved from books and movies I read and watched through the years. My mind raced through the names of characters from Tolkien's works (as he is my favorite author and Peter Jackson's movies are some of my favorite films as well) and one name stuck out to me. The name of a character who was brave, steadfast, a firm friend, someone who had faced battle after battle and never backed down from it, only grown into a better and stronger version of himself.
That name? Éomer...
And that was it. I returned to I.A.C.S., picked up my new son, started calling him Éomer, and we were off on the way home to my apartment in Irvington, Indianapolis. As soon as he was in the car and we pulled away, he was all smiles. He jumped back and forth between the front seats to the rear of the car, sticking his head out of every cracked window, trying to climb into my lap (which of course I let him do at stop lights), and whipping his head around on a swivel taking in all the sights.
Day One: Freedom Ride
When we got home, I took his leash and hooked it to the leg of my couch, so I could keep him inside while I grabbed his crate and the rest of his things from the car. When I came back in two minutes later, he had chewed right through the leash and was sitting on the other couch, where he had been looking out the window into the parking lot watching me. He was all smiles when I came back in, even though I was (mildly) irritated that his new leash was destroyed. Thank goodness I had bought a backup!
We spent that entire first day playing. We took multiple long walks through our neighborhood, played fetch by throwing a ball from the front door at a diagonal into my bedroom, wrestled on the couches and my bed, chased each other through the apartment, snuggled and napped in the sunshine, and began to create a bond that would define both of our lives. That first day was something special, more special than I realized all those years ago. It wasn't long before I introduced him to my family. Within those first few days he met my little brother, my parents and their dogs (Lainey, the sweet French Brittany, and Rosie Cotton, the big goofy GSD), my grandparents, even my cousins and their parents who lived right behind my grandparents' house.
He was wild back then. So full of life and energy. We used to have to walk on average 6 miles a day, plus wrestle, plus play fetch, plus tug of war, just to burn his energy out. Some days I didn't have the energy, because I was working as a cook and chef, working long days on my feet that exhausted me mentally and physically. But when I came home, I could see him in the window, watching the parking lot waiting for me. When I opened the door to that little apartment and saw him bounding across the floor, jumping over the couch, to tumble into me and wait to be picked up, everything washed away. All the hurt, all the stress, all the pain. When I held him in my arms, my precious baby boy, and kissed his face, it felt like everything was okay.
Those early days weren't always perfect. I certainly wasn't. There were growing pains as a new parent, as someone in their 20's, as someone struggling with addiction, someone deeply closeted and filled with self-loathing. I wasn't always the best parent back then, I know that. There were days I came home and he had pooped in the living room, or thrown up on my bed, and I cried and yelled. I sometimes failed to walk him as much as he needed. There were times he would drop a toy at my feet, and I just had to tell him, not right now buddy. I can't do it. I wasn't the person I am now, back then. I was struggling. That isn't to say I don't still struggle, but many of the hardest battles of my life were being fought when I adopted Éomer.
The thing is though, it was the funny, or strange, or perhaps planned quirk of life that brought us together. I would not have made it through those years without him. Holding him in my arms at night, waking up to him sleeping curled behind my legs, kissing his smooshy face awake in the morning, those 5am walks before a prep shift, coming back on my lunch breaks to wrestle and play tag, those silent late-night walks down Audubon Road passing houses we admired but knew we could never afford to live in. It was those moments that kept me going. It was those quiet moments, alone at 1am walking the streets. It was those loud moments, tumbling through the apartment, body slamming each other into couches and the bed. It was the peaceful moments, with him sitting on my chest, staring into his little eyes. It was the bad moments, cleaning up pee or poop, wondering why I ever adopted that little stinker. It was every moment. Only now, looking back with a decade of perspective, do I see just how much he saved me.
When I think back to that first day together, I think of how differently things could have been. People often say, usually jokingly, that their dog saved their life. But in Éomer's case, he truly did. And in turn, I saved his. Without him, I know I wouldn't be here. He gave me a reason to go on. The love he gave me, the purpose he instilled, made me fight through every downward trend, every mental and physical battle, every bad time, so I could continue to be there for him. And without me, Éomer wouldn't be here either. He would have been put down, because they needed to make space for other dogs who people might actually want to adopt.
I don't know if I believe in a higher power. Fate, destiny, god or gods, karma, magic, whatever you want to call it. I'm not sure I believe in anything of the sort. But what I do believe, what I know, is that Éomer and I were meant to find each other. We were meant to be in each other's lives. We were meant to spend the almost decade we've had, together. People often say you have a "soul dog", a dog you adopt in your 20's or 30's who leaves an imprint on every fiber of your being. And I believe that, at least in my case. I know that that is who Éomer is for me. I never viewed him as a pet, or a piece of property. He was family. He was my boy. He was my son. He was everything good in this world, the center of every blessing, the core of what was good in me, the cause of every good thing I have tried to do and achieve in the last decade. He was my world. He was the reason to keep going, even when I had nothing else to keep going for. He wasn't perfect, but he was perfect because of that. He was everything to me. He was my son.
That first year Éomer and I spent 322 of 365 days together. I wish we could have had the full year, but that's just life is sometimes. But 2017? What a year...that first day of adopting him; his first birthday with me (which was his 3rd birthday); my first birthday with him (I turned 23); our first hike at Fort Ben; his first furry friends (his aunts Lainey & Rosie); our first Fourth of July, where we found out he couldn't give a shit about fireworks; our first walks along the little creeks of Southeastway Park, near where I grew up; our first Christmas; our first naps; our first everything. Things would only get better as time went on, but that first year. What I would give to go back to it, just for a moment, knowing what I know now. To hold him as the baby boy I first fell in love with at the kennels of I.A.C.S., to watch him discover a world which wouldn't hurt him, to see him fall in love with friends, family, and learn that life could be kind. Life could be sweet. Life could be better together, in a way that neither of us had ever experienced before.
2018
2018 was a year of changes, for both of us. For me, I began to step out and explore my identity, who I was inside but had kept hidden due to societal and family expectations. I was serving, instead of cooking, due to a roommate moving unexpectedly and needing to make more money. With that came more time with Éomer, with the exception of big convention weekends. On those days, he would spend the day at his Grandma & Grandpas house with his dog aunt Rosie, or his Uncle Gabe would come to babysit him at my apartment. That brought about a big change in him too. The more time he spent with other people, the more time he spent with other dogs, the brighter and happier he became.
I remember one night taking him to watch a movie at my parents house, where my dad didn't particularly love the dogs being on the couches or chairs. But lo and behold, just a little while into watching the movie, Éomer somehow mysteriously migrated from the floor into my dad's lap, sitting on top of his chest and being held while they watched the movie together. That was the kind of effect he had on everyone. You couldn't help but love him. You couldn't help but bend or break the rules just for him.
Oh, you aren't a dog person? Well that wiggly booty would disagree. Friends who never enjoyed being around dogs before enjoyed being around Éomer, because he would cuddle and snuggle and give as much love as he got. People who didn't let their own dogs up on their furniture? Well, Éomer got to break that rule and sit in their laps, shedding his golden hair all over their nice, clean furniture. Random neighbors we would pass on our daily walks in Irvington, who at first would cross the street or walk away when they saw a pittie coming, eventually would stop to say hi and come to know him. They would cautiously approach, then their guard would lower as they realized that all Éomer was was a pure ball of love and youthful energy. Folks who had preconceived notions of who he was and what he was about would have those expectations shattered, and come to know the love and sweetness behind those brown eyes.
We spent so much of that year outside. Constant walks, free days spent hiking alone or with our family. For my 24th birthday my family traveled together to the Daniel Boone National Forest & Red River Gorge Geographical Area, which is perhaps my favorite place in the entire world. It certainly cemented it's place after that trip. My parents had rented a cabin for us and we traveled down together and spent a wonderful few days hiking, cooking out, relaxing under the stars, and spending time with Éomer and their dog Rosie Cotton (Éomer's dog aunt). It was one of the best memories of my life, even now when life has changed so much and I don't have the same relationships that I did before.
But the very best memory of that trip came from Éomer. We hiked a lot that trip and made jokes about Éomer escaping off into the woods somehow (back in those days he was a bit of an escape artist) and imagining how we would come back a year later and see him high atop a hilltop or cliff leading a pack of wild dogs or coyotes, which still makes me laugh to this day. But there was one day we went on a particularly grueling hike. I can't remember if it was 6 or 8 or 10 miles, but I do remember it was a constant up and down of climbing hills and valleys that exhausted me to the point of being wobbly legged (I was definitely the least in shape at that time of my family of four).
We powered through and returned back to the cabin, where all four humans immediately set about relaxing, rubbing our sore legs, stretching out and readying ourselves to settle in for the evening. Sweet Miss Rosie Cotton threw herself down on the cool wooden floor and sat there breathing deeply and heavily, getting up occasionally to drink and cool down, but otherwise deciding she was done moving for the day. And where was Éomer during all this tiredness? Well he was standing right by the front door, ready to get back out there. He looked at all of us with an expression that clearly read, "I'm ready to go hiking again. Get off your lazy asses and take me for another hike, or you're gonna have to scratch my booty for the rest of the night." I think it goes without saying that my tired, sore, out of shape ass decided to spend the evening giving him booty scritches rather than risking my already weak legs on a nighttime hike.
We spent the rest of 2018 still living in Irvington, until the very end of the year when our lease ended and we got a house in Fountain Square with our roommate Cedric and his boy Rambo who had been living with us for a few months. The house was old, beat up (though certainly not the worst house in Fountain Square at that time), but it had a lot of charm to it. For me, I was excited about having a dishwasher AND a washer and dryer, but Éomer was more excited about having a yard for the first time. It was big enough and long enough that we could get a full throw of a ball for him, and watching him tear off through the patchy grass to bring it back still brings me joy when I think about it.
2018 was a good year. There were changes, some uncomfortable times (especially for me), but through it all I had Éomer. There was never a day where I wasn't thankful to have him. And in those days we were so active, always on the move, always doing something, ready for any adventure that popped up on the horizon. We didn't have much (truthfully we never really have) but we had each other. At the end of the day, that's all that mattered to me. I think, or rather I know, that of everything I have ever experienced, every challenge, every struggle, I could have made it through as long as I had him. His love kept me grounded, his life kept me focused, and being his mother kept me sane through even the darkest times.
2019
2019 was the true start of Éomer's heyday of physical activity. He was in the prime of his youth, about four and a half when we moved in the previous fall, and now that he had a yard he was constantly on the move. We would spend hours on the back porch together, sometimes throwing the ball until my arm gave out, sometimes chasing each other up and down the steps and around the yard, and sometimes just reading and taking in a cool breeze. The house itself was nothing to write home about, but the yard alone made it worth it. Watching him sprint back and forth, his tail whipping around, with a shit-eating grin on his face was priceless (just see the top left picture on this page for reference).
I'm beyond thankful that for this time in his life we had a yard, as later in his life we would return to living in apartments and condos. But for four years we got to enjoy the benefit of a yard to run, play, wrestle, and explore in. From the age of four and a half to eight and a half, during his most active years, he never had to go far to get some exercise. Though, I will admit that over those due to roommates and one time his Uncle Gabe, he did escape the yard more than once and go on lengthy adventures through Fountain Square for hours on end. He was always a runner and a bit of an escape artist, especially in his younger days. Not because he wanted to not be where he was, but because he genuinely loved to explore. Every time he ran off, he always came back on his own. He just wanted to see what was out there was all! He wanted to meet new people, kill a small animal or two if he could get them, shit and piss in yards that looked and smelled different, and once he had done all that he would be right back home.
We had spent the winter of '18 & '19 getting to know our neighborhood, spending an hour or more everyday going on long walks up and down the streets. We learned where all the local bars and restaurants were, which houses had nice neighbors and which ones had asshole dogs who wanted to beef with the boy, where the best poop spots were located, which trees squirrels tended to congregate in the most (he liked to check those trees out every walk), and familiarize ourselves with the place that would be our home for four years.
Those were good days back then. Cedric was a great roommate (shout out to Cedric, still one of the best roommates we ever had!) and his boy Rambo was a good dog. He and Éomer had both experienced abuse before, but with their parents they got to experience unconditional love. Rambo was a little rough around the edges, but once he opened up to you and you were his buddy, you were his buddy. He got to know me and Éomer's Uncle Gabe, to the point that he would dogsit for both Cedric and I if we were both working that day. It was great for Éomer to have a buddy, even if he and Rambo didn't play a lot. Having another dog in the house brought him a sense of companionship and they maintained a good relationship as long as we lived together.
Sadly (for us) during that year Cedric and Rambo moved out to live with their fiancé, but while we missed them as roommates' things worked out well for everyone. My little brother Gabe moved in with us and Éomer spent his days getting loved on constantly by one or both of us. Uncle Gabe was his favorite person in the world besides me, and getting to spend time with him was one of his great joys. He would nap on his lap while watching tv, sometimes he would go to Gabe's room overnight for a slumber party, and he was always down to go for a walk with his uncle. I was grateful to have him living there with us as well, because I was cooking again and sometimes my days would be 12 or more hours, and having someone I could trust to take care of my boy was a blessing I couldn't describe if I tried.
2019 saw a lot of changes for us. Maybe not as many as 2018, but it was still a good year looking back, at least for Éomer. I still struggled on my side of things, but Éomer was a great confidant and always willing to let me talk things out with him. He was a little judgy when I would cry, but that's because as a tough reformed felon with three times in the clink (aka three times in the city shelter), he just didn't have the patience for my weepy nonsense. He was always so good at comforting me though, even when I was upset. He would climb into bed and crawl on top of me, his paws on either side of my neck, looking down and rubbing his face to my face or into my chest. Sometimes he would make it just a little hard to breathe, but it was always worth it. He did that for all the years he was my son, and I relished it every time. Looking back, I wish I could have held him like that even more, as it was one of his and my favorite things.
We spent a lot of time in the yard that year, going on hikes with Gabe and our dad (aka Grandpa), going on bar crawls around Fountain Square, and sleeping in very late on those rare days off. I think I may have more pictures of Éomer napping than anything else, not because that was what he spent most of his time doing, but because he was so adorable and beautiful when he slept. Those naps were always great though. There was nothing quite like coming home from a long day, not getting quite enough sleep, but realizing that the next day was a day off so we could spend all afternoon snuggling and napping in a pitch-black room.
If there was one thing to know about Éomer, it's that he was always down for a car ride, a walk, or a nap. If offered, there was no way he was turning it down. And between Uncle Gabe and I, he had plenty of time for naps, a habit that we picked up from Grandpa Lance and Great-Grandpa Phil, sort of a family tradition in a way. I would always joke that Éomer came from a long line of distinguished and proud nappers. And boy, was he the best napper of the bunch.
When 2020 rolled around, we had firmly embedded ourselves into the neighborhood. We knew neighbors, if we went out to the bars it was guaranteed Éomer always had a lap to sit in, and there was always someone coming around to hang out (which, of course, Éomer always took as an excuse to demand snuggles). Uncle Gabe was still living with us, so every day Éomer got to wake up and see his best buddy. It was great for all of us, I think. Éomer always had someone to love on him, I knew I could entrust his care to Uncle Gabe if I had a long day, and he got the benefit of getting love from the Boogie Bear every day. A win for everyone.
2020 continued the trend of lots of walks and hikes, but now there was the added benefit of regularly scheduled Dungeons & Dragons games. Occasionally they would happen at our house, so Éomer was always jazzed when a half dozen people showed up that he could harass and force into scritching his booty. When we weren't at home, we were often over at his grandparent's house to watch movies and hang out with his Uncle Sammy and Aunt Rosie, even though Uncle Sammy was younger than him. Éomer and Sammy were two peas in a crazy ass pod. They were constantly chasing each other, playing tug of war with Éomer's big green rope, and annoying the hell out of Rosie.
I remember one day, years before, when Éomer had annoyed Rosie to the point that she put his whole neck into her mouth and just held him for a moment, as if to say, "Calm down buddy. That's enough now." Well, now that Sammy was around, Éomer was a little less annoying to her and that didn't happen very much. However, Sammy (an Australian Cattle Dog), was an absolute wild child and occasionally after rough housing would end up annoying Éomer. And since he had about 15 or so pounds on Sammy, more than once Éomer was the one biting down on the back of a neck and going "Calm down buddy. That's enough now."
2020
The summer passed as summers always do. Hot, filled with outdoor adventures, and over far too soon. We didn't have much money to travel or do anything crazy, but we spent many a day at Fort Ben or at Eagle Creek hiking. We took the occasional trip to Southeastway so I could walk down memory lane, but Fort Ben was the usual go to spot. Éomer was always down for a hike, the longer the better, though my chubby body could never keep up with the amount of hiking he was down for. If he had his way, he probably would have just hiked the same trail on an endless loop until he passed out from exhaustion.
Being outside was one of his favorite things and would remain that way until the end of his life. He used to love sitting for hours in the backyard of our house in Fountain Square, feeling a cool breeze across his face, chasing the squirrels that tiptoed around the fences. I loved those times too, because on the rare day off that I had, I could drag a chair and side table out there. I'd pack a bowl, get a soda or two, play some music on my phone, and just read while the boy sat next to me or entertained himself with the local wildlife. It was a simple joy, but one I'd happily trade so much to experience again.
When fall came around, his Uncle Gabe moved out, and it was once again just the two of us for a while. We spent our days watching movies, taking walks, and napping a lot. I wasn't doing too well around that time, so a lot of our time was just spent together in bed or in the living room. Usually, Éomer never argued about a long nap or snuggle session in the living room, but there were a few times during the fall and winter where he climbed on top of my chest and booped my face, giving me a very clear, "Hey, time to get up. I want to play. Stop being sad and play tug of war with me, or I'll poop in the kitchen."
Wintertime brought job changes, as it often did, and we weathered on solo without a roommate for a while. 2020 had been a weird year for work anyways, due to Covid. There was a stretch in the spring where I was mostly bedridden for the better part of two months, on multiple inhalers to be able to breathe, where I was unemployed. Éomer of course loved those times, even if I wassn't too active. But when the winter rolled around and I was working a lot and not as home as much as I had been earlier in the year, there was the occasional pout from the boy. I think he also missed his Uncle Gabe being there, or maybe even Rambo. Éomer was always a social dog, both with humans and other dogs, and I think having the house empty again threw him for a loop.
That was the first year that we celebrated Christmas alone, though that was through my doing and not Éomer's. He didn't quite understand, but he had a good Christmas all the same. Filled with time in the yard, new toys, fresh treats, a long walk, and an even longer nap. It wasn't the happiest time of my life, but if not for Éomer, I don't think I would've seen the years end. He did so much heavy lifting to take care of me, more than I ever realized at the time. He always gave me a sense of calm, a sense of purpose. Coming home to him was the clearing of my mind I needed after a bad day. Snuggling him in our silent, dark room, was the reassurance I needed that life would be okay. I would be okay. We would be okay, together. Me and my Boogie Bear.
2021 was a big year for us. New friends, new jobs, new games, new discoveries, new adventures. That was the year that we met a really cool family, first through Éomer's granduncle Dave. I had been working at a pizza shop in our neighborhood when I met Dave. He was a cool guy, older than me, around my dad's age, but he was so much fun to work with and hang out. It wasn't long before we hired his son Adam, who quickly became Éomer's uncle and one of my (to this day) best friends.
It was also the year that both of us were adopted. My two dear friends, Phoebe & Rebecca, who were both a few years older than me, stepped up into my life in a big way. They were there (and remain here) for me & Éomer in some dark days. They were always around to listen, to advise, to help, to guide, and to be surrogate mothers to me (and grandmums to Éomer). Due to Phoebe's deep and abiding love for geese, we gave her the title goosemum. Rebecca on the other hand, a trained actress and fight choreographer, earned the name swordmum. And by extension of me being Éomer's mom, they were also given the titles of grand-goosemum and grand-swordmum respectively (they kept those titles until his final day, and still wear them for their other granddog, Julia).
Those were fun days, working together with a bunch of our friends, working for garbage pay, but spending our days as you would expect pizza shop workers to do: smoking, drinking, and taking breaks to go back to my house and play with Éomer.
Éomer of course loved the attention. There was a steady stream of coworkers, friends, D&D players, and all sorts of folk traipsing throughout our shitty little Fountain Square trash house. It was almost a certainty that on any given day, Éomer was rubbing his ass on a woman or getting his ass rubbed by one of his uncles. He did love a good booty scritching/rubbing.
We always joked, until his dying day, that Éomer was a certified bisexual dog. He loved human ladies, and it was almost a guarantee that upon meeting a woman, he would turn around and back it up on her. However, when it came to dogs, Éomer liked boys. Specifically, he liked boy booties. It was a constant embarrassing, yet hilarious, thing to have to tell people. "Hey, this is my dog Éomer. He's a sweetheart, but he is gonna rub his booty on you," or "Hey, Éomer is 100& gonna try and hump your dog. I don't know when, or how, but he will try and do it at some point."
If there wasn't someone in the house at the time, you could always find him in his favorite perch. Along a window, sitting on a couch edge, watching the cars and people go by. Boy howdy, did he love people watching. When I had security cameras in the house, I'd often check them when I was gone to make sure that he was okay and see what he was up to. He was almost always in a window, watching what was happening outside. He never started, never barked, never wanted to interfere with the goings on of the outside world, he just liked to watch. Even when we would go out to the front porch to sit and watch, he never went down to the gate or fence line. He was always content to just sit on the porch and watch the world move at its own pace, a show made just for his viewing.
2021
Éomer made so many new friends that year, both human and dog. We did spend a lot of time outside hiking, as could be expected, but more often than not we did lengthy walks around the neighborhood. Éomer was a regular sight at Sam's Silver Circle, my favorite bar in our area, and he would often get passed around, lap to lap, by cooks and servers from nearby restaurants once they closed for the night. Our crew from the pizza shop could often be found there, along with a myriad of other service folk we knew. Éomer was always welcome there, though he did have to stay on a leash, as there was always at least one bar cat wandering around the patio that he would want to eat.
I remember celebrating his 7th birthday that year. It was such a good day. We had gone to Three Dogs, and he got to pick himself out a bunch of treats and new toys. That year he got Mr. Rabbit, Mr. Fox, and Mr. Squirrely Squirrel (the hollowed-out, stuffling-less fabric corpse of whom we still have), as well as a bunch of treats and a frisbee that I distinctly recall him never touching once. Thanks a lot for that bad. I couldn't even be mad if I wanted to be. That boy always came first when it came to bills. Over the whole time he was my son, there was more than one occasion of him needing food at the same time as a credit card bill being due. Unfortunately for those card companies, the boy's food (and treats, and toys, and outdoor excursions, and anything else he needed) always came first.
We went out for a long drive that day, all over the city and around Indy too. The sights and smells he experienced, I'm not sure he ducked his head back into the car once. He just stood on the door's edge to balance, head peeking out, nose whipping around and taking it all in. We had a great hike up at Eagle Creek, before we came back down to Mass Ave. again to get some lunch. He monched down so many (saltless) fries and (unseasoned) burger patties, he put my fat ass to shame. We sat on the patio, sipping sodas, chewing on french fries, watching everyone else walking by and eating. I think damn near every server, plus one or two cooks, came out to see him and tell him happy birthday. He was happy as could be that day, the center of attention, getting to people watch, as well as hike and get stuffed with human food.
We came home afterwards, played for a bit with his new toys, but that day called for a long ass nap and boy did we oblige each other. It was a good day. A great day even. It might have been one of his best birthdays ever, just because he got to experience everything he loved at once. There were some birthdays where we couldn't hike because of the weather, or funds we a little tight so he couldn't get a half dozen toys, only two or three, or that because of people's schedules he only got to see a handful of friends and family instead of the dozens he expected and deserved. It was truly a wonderful day and I think I would sacrifice a lot to go back and experience it one more time.
2021 was also a big year for me. It was the year I finally felt comfortable enough to be myself. I was no longer Éomer's dad, but his mom. To him, it really didn't make much difference, I'm not sure he ever even noticed at all. It took him all of one week to adjust from hearing me refer to myself as "daddy" to "mommy" and fully understand who I was referring to when I said it. Thankfully all the people around us understood and we so encouraging. It was validating for me, especially because I didn't want Éomer to lose anyone from his life again. He had lost some folks, because of me, because I chose to start to live honestly with who I was the year before, and because of that I had cut some family and friends out of my life.
Looking back, I know that it was the best for me, I do. And Éomer had so many wonderful, gracious, kind, and loving people join his life after that happened that I never regretted it for him. For myself, some days, even to this day, I wonder if I made the right choice. But for Éomer, I know that he was still surrounded by good people. Some friends and others came and went from his life, but throughout all the years he and I had each other, there was always someone around to love him, to scritch him, to play with him, to give him kisses, and to care about him.
For him, he never had to worry about that, because Éomer was loved by all. To be around him meant you were blessed. And to love him meant that you would never be the same. Even all these years later, some folks who haven't seen him in a long time due to traveling, moving, changing friendships, etc. have reached out with memories of him. That was the kind of boy he was. He was beyond special. He was perfection.
2022
A lot could be said for me for 2022, but that's not whose life story this is. For Éomer, 2022 was a year of Dungeons & Dragons, booty scritches, play times with his aunts and uncles, and hiking. But it was also the year his life would change immeasurably, in a way that neither of us could have expected. You see, for five and half years, Éomer had asked me for the same present. Every Adoptionversary, every Birthday, every Christmas, hell even holidays where you don't give gifts, he asked for the same thing. And though I did make an effort to get him that gift, it was a little out of my control. I had looked for it, for sure, but I just couldn't even seem to find it. And so, for five and half years, he waited and waited for that present he really wanted. And on August 10th, 2022, I was able to give him the present he had asked for for years...another mom.
Her name was Ella. She was a coworker of mine at IKEA, though in another department. Our lockers were right next to each other's, though I worked there for a few months before I realized that. For me, I was struck by her the minute I met her. I found myself finding excuses to wander to her department to chat on my breaks or looking for her in the breakroom. We had mutual friends, so I was always trying to join in group conversations where she was around. I was definitely very obvious about things, as our friends would tell you. But it seemed like she wasn't interested in me, which was understandable. I'm a bit weird, if you can't tell.
It turns out she was interested; I'm just a very dense person and not good at picking up on signals. We texted a lot for a month in June, and when July rolled around, we started hanging out four or five nights a week at each other's places. Éomer came with me every time we went to her place, even though her roommate and her had a cat that Éomer desperately wanted to eat. But the kitty stayed in another room, we stayed in Ella's (and naturally barricaded the crack in the door with a towel, lest the kitty get any ideas and stick a paw through).
For around 6 weeks, we spent most every night together with her. Éomer loved her immediately, though it would take me a little longer to feel the same. When I would ask him, "Do you want to go to Ella's tonight?" he would bounce out of my room and run to the door, eager to go see his new buddy and get love. And Ella was always down to see him, even though she was more of a cat person. The number of mornings I would wake up and have to pry him out of her arms to take him home so I could go to work were numerous. There were even days where I needed to work and Ella was off, so she offered to take care of him for the day. We weren't even together yet, but she already loved that boy something fierce. And he loved her too.
When August rolled around, Ella finally asked me out. I had been letting things go at her pace, but I said yes immediately. And whether or not she was ready for it, she was now officially Éomer's momma. It wasn't too long before that was her title, and he knew her by that name instead of by Ella for the rest of his years. And within the blink of an eye, we had a new family. No longer just Ella Newton, or Margaret Clementine, or Éomer Clementine. We were the Clementine-Newtons. The Clementewtons. It was something none of us had ever experienced, but it was amazing. And it was even more incredible to see the change it brought about in Éomer. He was always a happy boy, but having two moms made him happier than I had ever seen him. He was more alive than ever.
We took our first family vacation in September of that year. We packed up my Subaru Outback (trans-lesbian-mom stereotype anyone?) and hit the road, bound for Shenandoah. We spent almost a week camping, some nights through some truly atrocious weather, and spending our days taking long hikes all across the forest. Some of the hikes were killer (for me) but Éomer took them all in stride. It was some of the happiest memories I'll ever have, not just for myself, but because of the joy on his face. He loved it. Time outdoors? Check. Long hikes? Check. Marshmallows at night? Check. Two moms simultaneously snuggling him? Check. Life was good. No, I think life was perfect for him in that moment.
That trip didn't just see us going to Shenandoah, but to Washington D.C. as well. I feel so blessed that Éomer was always so well behaved in public, because we were able to explore so many monuments with him. The weather was beautiful, the food trucks were slapping, and Éomer got a lot of attention from dozens of strangers and tourists. More importantly though, he got to bond with Ella in a way he hadn't in the months prior. They had been friends before. Snuggle buddies for sure. Then mom and son, but almost a stepparent kind of situation. But that trip cemented their relationship. Ella wasn't his stepmom. He wasn't her stepson. She was his momma, and he was her bubba. That was how it was and how it would remain until the day he left this world.
There is more that could be said of 2022, but the most important thing was Ella coming into mine and Éomer's lives. We did move from Fountain Square to Anderson towards the end of the year, which threw Éomer for a little while, but he loved having a two-story condo where he could explore multiple rooms and run up and down the stairs. Ella was over often, even though the drive was a little long, and the nights she wasn't there Éomer often went to look for her. He would wander into the second room, then check the bathroom, climb down the stairs and make sure she wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. When he was sure she wasn't there, he'd come back to snuggle, but I could tell he missed her. I missed her too. But he wouldn't have to wait long, because most nights we were together, and in just a few shorts months the Clementewtons would be a one household home.
2023
2023 brought about the blending of our households. Éomer never had to go searching for his momma again, because he knew right where she would be; at her desk working on miniature buildings, in bed reading dystopian fiction, downstairs cooking up something yummy (and he would be polite and watch from a distance of course, although he would be sending psychic manipulations urging her to drop something), or watching a movie on the couch with mommy. Either way, he never had to go far to find someone to love on him, to entertain him, or just spend time with him.
Ella joined in on the hallowed Clementine family tradition of naps early on, and in those cold winter months it was almost a guarantee that when I came home from work, I would find Éomer curled under a blanket and snuggled next to his momma. He was always funny about where he slept, because while he adored snuggling, he did like to get up and move. Some nights he would fall asleep curled into my arms, his head resting on my shoulder. I would wake up a few hours later to use the restroom and he would be sitting in a recliner or on the ottoman by the window, watching the silent yards and houses. And then waking back up a few hours later, he would be curled into a tight ball under the covers between Ella and I's legs.
He always made himself comfy, but he liked to get up and stretch and move about through the night, a side effect I think of growing up around cats. While he never got a love for them and always held onto that deep-seated aggression from his abusive, dog-fighting years, he ironically had numerous catlike behaviors. The most notable of them was how he would perch on the back of couches, one leg draped down the side, but there were many oddities and quirks in his behavior that we noticed throughout the years. Even others, who didn't know of his background, pointed out cat-like behaviors from him. I'm sure there's a cat somewhere up in cat heaven that looked down on him at some point going, "Dude. You hate us so much and yet you are co-opting our stuff. That's OUR couch pose. That's OUR way to rub our heads for affection. Dick."
We didn't have company over as much that year as we had in previous years, just due to the drive for most of our friends, but that didn't seem to matter to Éomer. I never saw him happier than when he had two moms to love on him at all times. His days were spent wrestling, being chased through the house only to be caught and suplexed onto the couch or the bed. Ella has dozens of little scratches and tooth marks that she earned from hundreds of intense wrestling matches with the boy (joining the club with me).
Anyone that knew Éomer could attest to the fact that with humans, he liked to play rough. That boy absolutely adored being tossed around, doing a little jiu-jitsu, getting nibbled on and biting back, and otherwise beating the crap out of each other. With Ella living with us, he always had a source of play, because Ella freaking loved wrestling him and annoying him too. Antagonizing him into a tussle was one of her favorite pastimes, the whole time she was his momma, and he reciprocated that as well with countless hours of roughhousing. In those times, I saw something I hadn't seen in all the people who had been part of Éomer's life before. I saw in Ella someone who loved him, truly loved with, without any expectations or demands. She loved him nearly as much as I did, and I cherish the fact that he got so much time with her in those days.
Work stayed much the same for both of us, our days filled with the monotony of customer service, looking forward to coming home to the Boogie Bear. He was always by our sides, even if we weren't directly playing. He liked to perch beneath my feet when I was running online D&D games or snuggle up next to Ella while she read. He'd join us on the couch for a movie, watch us from the dining room as we cooked, keep Ella company as she worked peacefully on minis, or sit on my lap as I played video games. He just loved being around us, no matter what we were doing.
I had learned early on in being Éomer's mommy that he did not like closed doors, so you better believe if you had to take a shower or shit, or even a quick piss, he would follow you to the bathroom. He didn't usually come in, he just liked to stand guard outside of the doorway, occasionally looking back on you to make sure you were doing okay. If it was a particularly lengthy shit, he'd come in and rest his head on your knee, though whether he was encouraging you to speed up or just offering you comfort in what he assumed was a struggle, I'm not sure. And you had better not take a long shower or eventually he would come in and poke his head around the shower curtain, only to get indignant that now his snout was wet. Regardless, him company was always welcome, if only because he would paw at the door and whine or headbutt it until you let him in if he was shut out.
Summertime brought a lot of new experiences and adventures though. Every week we tried to get out and hike or go visit some new park. We particularly liked Mounds State Park, but there were a few other good trails out and around Anderson that were a little hilly, so they could give a nice workout. As always, Éomer loved any time outside, but getting to do family time outdoors was even better than normal walks and hikes. Ella and I would usually trade off, one of us walking him and the other carrying a backpack filled with water and snacks.
It was usually difficult to get Éomer to stop and drink some water, because he was always wanting to get over that next hill, explore that next valley that dipped and wound around a corner. That was his personality throughout his whole life though. He always wanted to see the next thing, the next horizon. He would always return home to his comforts, to rest and love, but he would be ready to get back out there the next day. In another life he might've made a great explorer, pushing the boundaries of what we knew about the world. Or perhaps if he had been born far into the future, he could've been the first dog to land on another planet, leading a dog uprising in 2947 where dogs finally took over governance of the solar system from humans and led us into the wider galaxy. Who knows? But that desire to leap forward, to find the next adventure, to dare to explore and seek news things, that was who Éomer was.
He was a brave soul. He was an adventurer.
2024
2024 was quite the year, for all of us. There were many major changes to careers, housing, and our family. Éomer weathered the changes better than Ella and I did, that I know for sure. He was just content to be with us, even if circumstances changed a little more often than we would have liked. In March, we moved out of the condo we'd lived in for about a year and a half, to go and housesit for a few months for my friend Sarah & her husband Geronimo. We only moved a few blocks over, but it was a bit stressful because we had to figure out what we would take with us for the short stay and what would have to go to storage.
Those few months in Sarah's house were fun, for a number of reasons, but for me it stood out because there was a great taco spot a short walk away, so Éomer and I would get dressed and make our way down there for lunch more often than I care to remember. We spent our days sleeping in the guest room, taking long walks only a neighborhood or two over from where we had previously lived, and watching cars go by from the front porch. While we did try and keep Éomer off the furniture as much as possible, even going to far as to wrap it in blankets so he didn't shed on them, I'm confident there's a healthy dose of golden pittie hair in every couch & recliner that Sarah & Geronimo own.
Our time in Anderson came to a close though, near the start of summer. Sarah and Geronimo came back from Alaska to take over ownership of their home, and the Clementewtons were on the way back to Indianapolis to live in a cute, old building on the near northside. While I had loved our house in Fountain Square because of the yard, the house truly was a real piece of shit. But our apartment on College Ave. was cute. It was an old building, nothing to look at from the front, and even the interior was a bit banged up. But we made that little apartment into one hell of a home.
Éomer spent long days napping in a sunbeam in his momma's sunroom, laying on a chaise and soaking up the rays. When he was awake, he'd peer out the window and watch the cars go by, more than he had ever seen from any window anywhere he had lived. There were always cars going by, or people walking, or bikes, or anything else happening outside. He stayed entertained at that window for certain. The apartment was a straight shot, so could chase a ball from the sunroom to the bedroom, though we tried to limit that to during the day, so we didn't annoy our downstairs neighbor. It wasn't much, size wise, but it felt more like home than maybe anywhere else we had ever lived.
I had made the transition from working in food service to animal care, starting at a daycare earlier in that year during the winter. Éomer would sometimes come with me to work, where he'd join other dogs in the playroom, though he definitely would have preferred to be with me. He became known as an escape artist there a had a knack for wriggling under or jumping over other dogs as they came in and out of the playroom. It was here that Éomer would meet his Indiana dog boyfriend Buck, the nephew of his human aunt Claymore who he would also meet here.
Éomer made a fair few dog friends there, but it was the humans who would make the most impact on him. When we would come in first thing in the morning, he'd whip his head around the desk to see if Pat was there, because it was guarantee he would get booty scritches from her. Then he would make his way to the back, looking for Jane and Claymore (his aunties), as they were always good for some snuggles and maybe a treat or two. But his best buddy at that job was Uncle Jon, one of my coworkers, who would lower himself down to the floor and let Éomer sit on him while he gave him scritches and pets and treats. Éomer loved Jon something fierce and Jon, with his big heart, gave him that love right back.
Our time on College Ave. wasn't the longest, but it was beautiful while it lasted. We made friends with a number of the neighbors; the building being filled with mostly other queer and trans folks. In particular, we became good friends with one of our downstairs neighbors, an amazing guy named Myles who also had a sweet boy named Urie. Myles and Urie were a little younger than Éomer and I, but we loved those moments catching each other in the hallway. Éomer and Urie would chase each other up and down the stairs and hallways, while Ella and Myles and I chatted.
As the summer passed, Ella and I both began to experience a peculiar feeling. Separately, we both wanted a second dog. We began to test the waters having that conversation with each other and found we were mostly on the same page about what we were looking for. Preferably a daughter, younger than Éomer, ideally a pittie but we were open to other breeds, and of course someone who would get along with Éomer. Our friend Mollee worked at the Hamilton Humane Society and encourage us to look there, so we narrowed down a list of potential dogs and went off with Éomer to look at them.
When we got there, we found out one dog we had wanted to look at had already been adopted. Another had too many medical issues for us to be able to properly care for. We met a few dogs, but they just didn't feel right. That was when one of the workers said they had someone for us to look at. Mollee had mentioned this dog earlier but mentioned they were dog reactive and had bitten the last person they met and tried to bite others she had met before too. Ella and I were both a little nervous, but we were open to it, and I am so glad we were. We were introduced to a one year old pittie named Julia and we fell in love with her immediately. She was, from the get-go, wonderful with us. What's more, this dog reactive dog, was immediately good with Éomer and playing with him.
As I said before, I'm not sure if I believe in fate or destiny or magic, but Julia was meant to come to us. A dog who had bitten the previous people who tried to meet her, who was reactive to every dog (and is still quite dog reactive to this day), immediately kissed our faces, let us hold her, played with Éomer, and enjoyed his company in the first few minutes of meeting her? She was meant to be part of our family. We adopted her immediately and brought her home, where within the first few minutes her and Éomer were jumping on and off the couch, play fighting, and sprinting through the apartment chasing each other.
We had a few more months on College, but an opportunity for work popped up for me that led us to leave our apartment after only a few months. I was promoted to management for the company I worked for, which seemed (at the time) to be the right move for our family. We had a brief vacation up to the Indiana Dunes, and thenat the start of October, Éomer and I hit the road to Virginia to run another dog daycare. That first week we slept on an air mattress in the office but secured a temporary home soon after. That first month went by slowly, waiting for weeks for our family to be reunited. We unfortunately weren't able to go altogether, so it wasn't until November when I was able to return to Indy and bring Julia and Ella out to Virginia with me.
During those last few months of the year, we made a number of new friends and old. I reconnected with Jake, my college best friend, who I hadn't seen in almost ten years. Ella and I both made friends with my coworkers and employees, doing couple hangs with Christany & Zach, or Ella would go hang out with Norah. And during that time, Éomer developed a ton of new relationships too. He gained new aunties and uncles, but he also secured him a dog boyfriend in Tex, as well as two human girlfriends in Abby and Norah, although Norah and Éomer would get married as the year ended.
2024 had a lot of upheaval and change. But throughout it all, Éomer stayed excited. He rolled with the punches, relished the adventures, and looked forward to every new experience he got to have.
2025
2025 was the final year of Éomer's life. We didn't plan for it to be, though we knew he was getting up there in age. In March, he turned 11 years old, though it was hard to guess his age for others from how he behaved and acted. Sure, he had some good amounts of white and grey in his face, but his actions and attitude gave the impression of a much younger dog than he was. He was still so full of life, ready for a hike anytime, always ready to throw down paws if challenged to a wrestling match. He was an old man, but he sure as hell didn't know it.
We stayed in Virginia for a few more months, but the job did not work out for me unfortunately. Stress from the job, being off of my medications for many months for diabetes, HRT, etc., and financial struggles drove me to decide to step down from the job. At the same time, Ella and I unfortunately had begun counseling together, as we realized that our lives and what we wanted and needed were going in different directions. In April, after many years together, Ella and I separated. However, it was made very clear to both of us, by both of us, that we would remain in each other's lives due to our kids. She was Éomer's momma and that wouldn't change. I was Julia's mommy and that wouldn't change either.
We enjoyed the few months we had in Virginia that year as much as we could. Chilly walks to the beach, hanging out with friends, Éomer's Adoptionversary and Birthday, everything we could pack into those first four months. And in May, Éomer, Jules, and I set off back to Indiana. Ella had chosen to remain in Virginia due to work, school, having an apartment, and a desire to see where life took her out there. The kids and I found a place to live temporarily, and we began life in Indiana again less than a year after we had left. I returned to work at my previous job, and the kids and I tried to adjust to our new (old) life.
By some random chance and bad luck, Ella ended up back in Indiana at the end of May, less than a month after me and the kids had come back. Ella had driven out to visit family, see the kids, and hang out with friends. She had originally planned on going to stay with her sister, but since she wasn't home at the time, she came to stay with the kids and I for the night. Less than an hour after getting back to Indiana, a drunk driver hit and totaled her car, leaving her stranded here.
Life was thrown into a hectic, chaotic, and uncomfortable situation for us both, as we navigated what to do for her. She was able to terminate the lease at her old place and find somewhere to stay temporarily, but as both of our living situations were not ideal, we made the decision to live together again, temporarily. At the time, it was kind of a desperate situation and seemed the best option for us both. Looking back on it now, I am so thankful, despite all of the stress and pain of the year that things worked out the way they did. I wish it didn't have to happen how it did, but I am grateful, more grateful than I can express, that Éomer was only apart from his momma for a few short weeks and was able to spend the remainder of his life with her.
We got an apartment together and began living as roommates, doing our best to navigate co-parenting our dogs as exes. There were some weird or awkward moments during those initial few months of adjusting, but for the sake of our kids we made things work. Éomer loved being around Ella again, those few weeks they were apart were definitely weird for him as he had become so accustomed to her. We began to trade the dogs back and forth, to make sure they were getting time with both of us. Some nights both kids were with her, some nights with me, and some nights we'd each take one of them.
Despite our changing circumstances, Éomer had himself a good summer. We had stayed for a few weeks at his Aunt Jane's place before we got our new apartment, so he had a few fun days with Uncle Jon during that time too (Jon and Jane were roommates). We hiked a few times over the summer, getting out when we could, and the kids were constantly playing when we moved into the new place. Seeing as Ella and I had both had to leave and sell a lot of furniture where we moved back, the apartment was a little barren, but that just meant more room to chase each other and play for the kids.
In August Éomer found himself with an unfortunate combination of illnesses and infections. His seasonal allergies were particularly bad that year, but they were exacerbated by our shitty (really, really shitty) neighbors attracting in mice, who had fleas. Éomer's flea medication was almost due to be updated when he got them (we've since learned that if a flea medication says 3 months, it can really mean 2 or 2.5 months...ugh), which caused his skin to become even more irritated. During this time, he developed an ear infection, then he gave himself hematomas in his ears from whipping his head around so much. And on top of that, due to his starching, he got an infection that swelled up his lymph nodes. The kicker to all of this? This happened in about a 3-day period.
When we got Éomer to the vet, wearing an oversized cone, they were able to drain some of the hematomas, prescribe medication for everything, and generally square away every problem that Éomer had at the time. He was deeply upset to discover that he would have to wear a headwrap for a while, but adjusted to it quickly enough, though he did look quite silly with it. Despite all of things happening to him over the course of one weekend, he remained in high spirits. I'm not sure he even realized anything was wrong, other than that he was itchy and he wasn't allowed to scratch at his ears.
But that really was Éomer anyways. He never let life get him down. The things he had experienced early in his life, as a young puppy, had toughened him up for sure. He had been abused, he had been baited, he'd been forced to fight. Do you really think an ear infection was gonna stop him? Even if you combined it with allergies? No sir. Go ahead and toss in a bacterial infection as well, he can take it. He was a trooper through it all, even though it was a relatively short ordeal. Truthfully, he had to wear that headwrap a little longer than planned due to a change in jobs on my part, which led him to having some cauliflower ear. I was a little upset about that at first, because due to the job change, I wasn't able to get him back in time. But now, having since moved to working for a vet and given a little more info about how those things work, I've come to appreciate the extra crinkles his ears gained that fall.
Éomer pushed on past his illnesses and infections quickly and cheerfully, as we expected. He spent the fall of 2025 exploring the neighborhood, wrestling his sister, and coming to work with me at my new job. I continued to work in animal care but had begun to work for a vet in their boarding area. While I was able to take my dogs to work with me previously at the daycares, because of Julia's reactivity I was never able to bring them together. But since my new job was for boarding only, the dogs never had any interaction with each other while staying there. So, I was finally able to take them to work, where they spent their days playing in the yard, chomping on peanut butter cones, getting love from all of my new coworkers, and getting to enjoy a little more time outside and exercise than they would have gotten if they stayed home all day.
On weekends they would follow me around as I cleaned, scooping up the poop in the yards, deep cleaning kennels and drains, washing laundry, and everything else my job entailed. They would sometimes have to go into one of our lodges when I was doing other things, but if I could have them out with me I would. When they did have to go into one of the lodges, they were usually very spoiled, with two beds, a half dozen blankets, a dozen or more toys, and usually some sort of frozen kong or cheesy treat if they were good (which of course they always were, even when they weren't).
I was excited about this new job for myself before I even started, because it was a little more money than my previous job, plus I would get insurance which is always nice. But once I started bringing the kids, it meant a lot more to me. Watching them chase each other around the yard while I let the boarding dogs out to pee was always amusing. Éomer would come up to the other kennels, sniff at the dogs in there, then immediately get pulled away by Julia who was jealous of the attention he was paying other dogs. Éomer might not have had as much energy as he used to, but he would still sprint after a thrown ball or let me chase him around the yard.
I didn't know that these would be some of the final times I would be able to do that, but I am forever grateful that I was. Those moments of play in the yard on my breaks or taking a nap together in a lodge on a dog bed during my lunch, meant a lot to me. To be able to spend almost every day fully together for his last few months was a blessing. I can't express how much it means to me now, looking back at it. I think, had I been in a career or job where I wasn't able to take them with me, I would have been that much harder on myself about time spent with him after he was gone. But because I could bring them, I got to spend those workdays loving on him every time I passed by his lodge, feeding him extra treats from my pocket, kissing his nose and holding him while we napped on lunch, and being with him in a way I wouldn't have been able to be in another job.
And so, the fall went on, with the kids coming to work with me most days I worked, although if their momma had the day off, they would stay home with her of course. The weather started to grow colder, the nights came earlier, and we even saw some snow, but through it all Éomer was always excited to go outside, take a walk, wrestle a mom, play with his sister, or generally do anything that involved someone he loved. He had started to develop a curious habit in the last few months of eating socks, which was something he hadn't done in years. Normally he just liked to make a pile of dirty laundry or occasionally chew on a sock or pair of panties, but recently he had actually been monching on them.
One night towards the end of November, I was snuggling him and going to give him kisses, when I noticed his breath smelled really foul. When I tried to look inside, which was very difficult because he was not cooperating, something dark and black appeared in the back on his throat on the roof of his mouth. It looked like a sock, or so I assumed because of what he had been doing recently. His breathing was totally normal, so I stayed up the entire night watching him and making sure he was okay. We had thought about going to an emergency center, but since he seemed okay, I decided to wait and go to my job immediately in the morning. We got up, Éomer from a good night's sleep and me running on fumes from watching him and set off for work on our day off.
When we got him there, due to where they had to examinate him, they put him under sedation. I had hoped it was just a sock or piece of clothing that could be removed easily and wouldn't require surgery, but that was not the case. My doctor told me that it was not a piece of clothing, but a giant mass/tumor on the roof of his mouth that had grown very quickly and aggressively. She had examined him only a few weeks before for an annual exam and vaccines and there had been no sign of it then, so that led her to think it might be malignant melanoma. She took some biopsies of the mass to send off but told me that it was certainly a form of mouth cancer. It had already spread to one of his lymph nodes as well, so it was likely in Stage 3 regardless of the form of cancer it was.
I was in shock and called Ella weeping. I did not know how to process the news, and even now, I do not know how to process my feelings about things. I brought Éomer home once he woke up, and Ella and I spent the rest of that day giving him all of our love. We played, we napped, we gave him treats, took silly photos, and kissed him with every bit of heart we could give. He of course didn't realize anything was going wrong, moving forward with that same rugged determination and strong-will that we loved so much about him. If anything, I'm sure he was just excited for the extra attention, even if it did make Julia a bit jealous.
We began to research the different types of cancer it could be, and the results were disheartening. We learned that no matter which form, mouth cancers were usually a death sentence. It was just a matter of how long, even with treatment. Because we guessed it was in Stage 3 or 4, it was a matter of two months at max, without treatment. I decided against any treatment, because I was not going to subject my son to months of surgery, radiation, and pain just to buy a little extra time with him. I wouldn't put him in pain just to satisfy my own desire to have him here. So, Ella and I devoted ourselves to making sure the rest of the time he had would be filled with love.
I booked a place on SniffSpot called Tucker's Wish Run & Play Park, run by a wonderful woman named Robyn, to have a party for Éomer. Because we knew he would likely not see his birthday in March or his adoptionversary in February, we decided to have a combination party to celebrate both and his life. It was very short notice, but we invited everyone that we could. A handful of his favorite humans were able to come, showering him with treats, new toys, and all the love they could. For three hours we sat around, talking and telling stories about him, feeding him goodies, and enjoying each other's company. Éomer had also been given treats and toys by some of my coworkers, as well as me and his momma, and his grand-goosemum Phoebe had even gotten him a birthday cake to celebrate with too.
It was as blessing to be able to celebrate him, even if it was on short notice and with just a few folks. Those who came, I owe everything too. I will never be able to repay that friendship, that care, that love that they had for my boy. To come out on a Sunday with barely any notice, risking the icy roads, to sit together celebrating my boy, my son, my Boogie Bear, meant more than I could ever say. To those friends, to Jon, to Jane, to Claymore, to Marce, to Phoebe and Rebecca who would have been there if they weren't on another continent, and of course to his momma Ella, I owe everything. You gave my son a wonderful day, a memory I will cherish forever and that I know he cherished in his final days.
That night, I received a text message from Claymore and from Jon. Claymore had taken a great picture of Éomer in his Uncle Jon's lap, which was adorable and one of his favorite places to sit. And Jon, based on a conversation we had earlier that day where I was talking about an old dream to open a food truck called "Éomer's Place", had whipped something up and sent it to me, working on it almost immediately after he had gotten home. I was so grateful for both pictures. None of us could have anticipated that it would be the last picture Éomer would take with anyone but me, and that it would be the last piece of art anyone would make for him in his life.
December 4th, 2025: Éomer's Final Day
On Thursday, December 4th, 2025, two weeks after we had discovered the tumor, and one week after we had confirmed it was melanoma, Éomer Éadig Clementine-Newton passed from this world.
We woke up late that day. Éomer and Julia and I had stayed up late the night before. We were watching movies, eating popcorn, snuggling, and Éomer was getting so many kisses he was actually starting to get annoyed with me. I had that day off and I had let the kids out to pee around 3 or 4 in the morning, so we decided we weren't getting out of bed until at least noon. The sun streamed into our room and woke us up a little early, but luckily two pitties and a girl in her 30's don't need much convincing to go back to bed.
Ella had stayed the night with a friend the evening prior, but when she got home around 1, she knocked on our door and woke us up. She came in to see the kids, and we began the lazy afternoon routine of slowly waking up and getting ready for a day off of doing a whole lot of nothing. I got the kids breakfast around 1:30 and fed them, their usual meals, but on my doctor's recommendation we had been feeding Éomer his kibble very wetted down and were preparing to switch him to wet food. Éomer snarfed down his food as always, taking his time to eat it while Julia watched from the sidelines, having finished hers way earlier despite her slow feeder.
After he finished his breakfast, Éomer immediately threw all of it up, vomiting kibble and water and bile all over my room. We rubbed his back, assuring him it was okay, and we would get him some wet food that day that would be easier to eat. He kept throwing up though, hacking and struggling to breathe. We started to panic, not knowing exactly what to do. I started to attempt to help him how I knew how, inverting him, trying to give him the heimlich, but nothing worked. He was choking and I didn't know what to do, so I grabbed him and Julia, threw on the first clothes I found, and rushed to my car to take him to work.
Our apartment is in Lawrence, my job in Carmel, which is normally a 20ish minute drive. I sped going almost 95 on the highway the whole time, despite the snow in ice, crying and screaming and honking at every person to get the fuck out of my way. Éomer was so scared in the back, not understanding what was happening. He began to poop himself, which only stressed and scared him more. I called my job and told my coworker what was happening and to get someone ready to help us. When we made it to work after only 12 or 13 minutes, I rushed in the front door held by Cassy and rushed Éomer to the back where Harlie and Dr. Premo were waiting.
I hoisted him onto a surgical table, his paws covered in poop, hacking up pile, scared and wondering what was happening. They gave him something to calm him and began to examine him to see what was going on. Dr. Premo was able to determine that it wasn't food or anything he was choking on, but that the mass/tumor had grown farther back and was blocking his ability to breathe. He was struggling, gasping for breath, occasionally getting a lungful of air, but those were few and far between. Dr. Premo told me that for his sake, we needed to let him go today, now. I knew she was right, we knew it was going to be soon, I just hadn't realized how soon it would be.
Harlie and Dr. Premo set about making Éomer comfortable, prepping him and giving him something for the pain. I called Ella, sobbing, telling her to rush to my job because we had to let our boy go. Ella got there as quick as she could and was brought back by Cassy. We sat there together, Ella and I, holding our boy. We kissed him, held his paws, stroked his chin, rubbed his head, scritched his booty, and gave him every bit of love we could. They told us to take as much time as we needed, so we sat there holding him, loving him, reassuring him everything would be okay, that both his mommies loved him, and that we would always be there for him.
We talked about silly memories of him, laughing about his goofy behaviors, reminiscing about our first days with him. He had a smile on his face the entire time, fighting through the pain. He was struggling to breathe, but he kept going. That was Éomer. He was a fighter. He was tough. He was afraid, but he mastered that fear. Like his namesake, he knew the end might be coming, but he faced it head-on, like a brave warrior, like a noble dog, like a King of Rohan. We were by his side no matter what. I wasn't sure if Ella would stay while it happened, not because she didn't care or love him enough, but because death is hard for everyone. I knew I would stay, I had to stay, for my firstborn son. And to my eternal relief and gratitude, Ella stayed by my side, by Éomer's side, until it was time.
When he began to vomit blood, we knew it was time to say goodbye. Dr. Premo came back and administered the final drugs, while we held him sobbing and saying our final goodbyes. It was quick, painless, and kind, the kind of death he deserved. Dr. Premo confirmed his heart had stopped, then gave us our time to say our final goodbyes. We held our son, crying, rubbing his fur, mourning our loss together. And our boy, our son, our Boogie Bear, passed from this world in the hands and arms of the two people he loved most in the world, the two people who loved him most in the world as well. We brought Julia back out for a second time, as we let her see him before he passed as well. She approached him, calmer than she normally is, and sniffed around him. She may not have fully understood, but I believe she did on some level. She was careful around his body in a way that she would not be if he was alive, even just sleeping.
Ella stayed with me and Éomer for a while longer after his passing but then left to go get us some food and prepare to celebrate his life that night. Julia was taken by a coworker back to a Lodge, and I was left alone with Éomer. I sat and laid there for the better part of an hour, holding my son, before I could say goodbye. I did everything he used to love and even some of the things he hated, just to know he was truly gone. I kissed his nose. I nibbled an ear. I blew on his face. I shook his paw. I scritched his booty. I rubbed his tummy. I swished his tail. I kissed his forehead. I massaged his ears. I pulled on the fat rolls on his neck. I flipped up his lip flaps. I put my face to his face. He didn't react to anything, even though I prayed to I don't even know what that he would react. After an hour of sobbing, begging, praying, wishing, and hoping, I had to say goodbye to my son.
My coworker and my boss, Emy and Morgan, came back to prepare some things for Ella and I. Emy got ink prints of his right paw and nose, as well as a Christmas ornament with his left paw and nose too. Morgan got vials of hair from his booty and the back of his head near his ears, and ink prints of his crinkly ears for us. They were so careful with him and gave him such love as they got these things for us. They even got extra of each, so that not only would Ella and I each have these items, but I would have extra too. Morgan and I finished submitting his information for the service that would take and cremate him, and I went to go clean my car out and take Julia home.
Emy took Éomer and placed him in our storage, as the service had already come that day and wouldn't be there to pick up until the following week. I was apprehensive about leaving him, but I knew he had been cared for by my coworkers and would be watched out for as well. I made the mistake of not taking his bandana off, but Emy, kind soul that she is, was able to get it for me the next day.
With that, I went home to Julia and Ella, to drink a toast to Éomer's life and to weep, to mourn, to remember, and to cherish the life of my son. He would be cremated a few days later, returned in a carved wooden box with two clay paw and claw impressions for Ella and me, but that was not the final time I saw him.
On the day he was to be picked up, I was working. The staff member from Trusted Journey came and spoke with me before hand, detailing the process of what would happen. I accompanied him to take Éomer from where his body lay and take him out to the transport. Before he left, I was able to have a private moment with him by the door for a few minutes to say goodbye. His body was in a bag, some sort of protective veterinary bag of dark green. An oddly appropriate color for him, though I'm sure it was just chance. I couldn't see him, thankfully, as I think that would have broken me further. But I could feel him, see the shape of his body. When Emy had put him away, she had made sure that he was curled up in a ball. I'm sure that she did it to make sure he fit properly, but she couldn't have known that that was his favorite way to sleep. When I saw his body like that, he looked like he could have just been sleeping, sleeping the way he did behind my legs, or between Ella and I. Curled into a tight ball, getting warmth from both of his mommies, safe, secure, and comforted by their love. I didn't know I was going to get one final moment with him before he was cremated but I am so glad that I did.
A Final Farewell
For three thousand two hundred and seventeen days, I was blessed to be the parent of Éomer. When I first met and adopted him, I was a wayward and confused young person. I struggled with alcohol and substance abuse. I was deeply closeted regarding my identity. I was angry, confused, bitter, and a wreck. Éomer changed all of that. I won't say that I don't still struggle, but Éomer made my life easier. He made my life better. He was, without a shadow of a doubt, the best thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life. Perhaps he will be the best thing to ever happen to me at all. I would wager money he will be.
He was a once in a lifetime kind of being. I cannot be any clearer about the fact that he was not a pet. He was not property. He was not just a part of my family. He was my son. He was my firstborn. He was my baby boy. He was my everything. There is no corner of my soul I would not turn over to have him back, no depth I would not dive to see him again, no pain I would not suffer to see him smile at me and wag his tail just one more time. He was my entire world and without him I do not know what to do anymore. My entire existence feels shallow and empty without him by my side. My days feel hollow. My soul feels adrift in a void of futility. I am unsure of how to live without him.
People often say that they would kill for those they love. Some people even fantasize about it. If asked, I'm sure I would say the same thing. But I don't want to kill for those that I love. I want to be better. The better question is, would you be kind for those you love? Would you grow? Would you take better care of yourself? Éomer inspired me to better myself, even if the journey has been long and I've made missteps or fallen backwards during it. But over the course of nearly nine years, that sweet, pure boy, drove me to change things about myself I didn't think I could. He pushed me to be better, to experience new things, to grow and change and shape myself into something more than what I was.
So, would I have killed for Éomer? Sure. But what will I do now that he is gone? What will I do now that he is watching me from beyond. I will do the only thing I can do. I will try to be better, for him. I will try to be happier, to be healthier, to seek new journeys, to travel farther, to be a better mom than I was before. Éomer met me when I was the worst version of myself and gave me nearly a decade of unconditional love. He gave me chances no one else would give me. He extended patience that I did not get from anyone else. He loved me when I couldn't give myself that love. And he saw in me the person that I could be, the mother than I could be. He saw who I could be, and he stayed by my side through all of my struggles. He was beyond faithful; he was my rock. He was my everything.
I have wallowed in sadness for nearly two weeks at the time of this writing. I am sure I will continue to feel this pain for my entire life. But because of Éomer, for Éomer, I have done what I thought I could not. I have dragged myself from my nest of a bed to work, even though I want to call off or quit. I have faced the cold and the wind to walk Jules and give her time outdoors, even though all I want to do is cry. I had wrestled and played with Jules, throwing her toys and entertaining her in her brother's absence, even though all I would like is to die and leave this mortal coil behind, and see my son again.
I don't know how to continue on without him. I wish I could see him now. But I have to wait. I have to wait until it is my time. That could be in a year or a decade or fifty years. I don't know. But I know that I cannot give up, just to see him, even if that is all that my heart wants and screams for. Éomer would never forgive me if I left Julia alone, he would absolutely smack the shit out of me if I left his baby sister here. So, I will go on. I will persist. I will fight through this pain. I will bare my teeth, put my boots on, and push forward, because that is what Éomer would do. He would never let his struggles stop him from pursuing what he wanted, so neither will I.
For three thousand two hundred and seventeen days, I was blessed to be your mother Éomer. You changed my life. You gave me love I never deserved and made me better than I could have ever hoped. I will miss you more than I can ever say. I will talk to you every day at 4:15, staring at a picture of you on my phone and telling you about life. I will snuggle your teddy bear each night, wishing it was you. I will wear your ashes in a ring around my finger and on a chain around my neck. I will look at your leashes, your collars, your harness, your toys, your bowls, each day when I pass them in their display. I will make and commission art for you, print your pictures, and display them in every home I ever live in. I will write songs for you, singing about your love and praising your soul. I will tattoo your paw prints and your nose on my body. I will get your portrait marked on my skin, so I carry you with me where I go. I will keep a lock of your hair and ashes in a vial on me at all times, to hold you close and keep you near. I will look for you in every dog I meet, every person that crosses my path. I will keep my heart open to the love that this world has. I will strive to see things as you did, with a smile, with an open heart, with a youthful joy, no matter what happens. I will forever love you and honor your legacy. I will forever cherish the memories I made with you. I will forever be your mommy. You will forever be my son. You are my greatest treasure, my greatest joy, my greatest love. Whatever I did to deserve you in my life, I am thankful beyond words for it. I love you Éomer. I love you so much. My boy. My Boogie Bear. My Monkey Man. My Silly Boi. My son. My Éomer.
May your soul run forever free across the windswept plains and grasslands of Rohan. May you spend an eternity exploring the fens and fields of the Entwash. May your heart be glad feasting in the Halls of Meduseld forevermore. May you ride far afield with Béma, as the King of Rohan should, until the ends of all days.
I am forever your mother, you are forever my son. I cannot wait until I see you again. Please wait for me. When my time comes, I will look for you bubby. Please wait for mommy. I love you.
-Margaret Éowyn Clementine
