Aspen the Airedale: a celebration of life

Aspen the Airedale was my travel companion, copilot and photographic assistant for more than three years. She was ever-present on my adventures, helping me to look for images for book projects such as Elbow, Frontier, Fifteen Bridges, A-Z of Alberta, and The Gathering in Alberta, British Columbia and Saskatchewan.

She was the star in my documentary film Airedale: Terrier and Terrain, opening up my story about the Yorkshire dog and landscapes with action scenes in the aspen woodlands around Calgary, Canada, before being represented on the moors and along the River Aire via a large poster portrait of her as a puppy.

Aspen was the main character in the first of a planned series of little books for my grandchildren. Aspen’s Ball was a tribute to her love for playing in the garden and in the snow; an early-age reading book with photographs that Elliot, my Grandson, was given earlier this year.

Further stories such as Aspen Goes Camping and Aspen Goes to the Cinema (she went for a visit inside The Empress, a beautiful old cinema in Fort Macleod, Alberta just two weeks ago) were in preparation. They are now on hold. Aspen died suddenly while with me on a photo assignment last week in the far north of Alberta. Sadly, like Arya the Airedale before her, she was only four years old.

Aspen was a beautiful, intelligent and energetic Airedale who came into our family at the beginning of 2022 as a young puppy raised in southern Alberta. She was my prairie dog; my mountain dog. She adored chasing squirrels and barked loudly at any rotating room fan (the staff at the vets knew to turn them off when she visited). My family loved her talking and singing (her barks and howls were wonderfully expressive). Her mothering instincts with baby Elliot, while visiting us from Scotland last year, were memorably endearing.

She was a dog who readily learned tricks, filling us with pride and joy as she ran to “middle” between our legs and lifted up her paws to receive treats and medicines. She had become accomplished at keeping upright on her hind legs, rewarded nightly with a dental stick given by my wife. And her tunnelling beneath the legs of chairs (a substitute for her inbred hunting instincts along the banks of the River Aire) was coming along nicely just days before she passed away.

Aspen, you gave us so much and left us too soon. We miss you deeply.

Aspen the Airedale (2021-2026).