In which Dish reminisces about a favorite ex as she falls hard for a King Charles Cavalier with infuriatingly large, beautiful brown eyes.
“Love is a rapturous gift. Terribly inconvenient, though.” - Alexander (one of Dish’s favorite ex’s).
I met Alexander years ago, when the Gramercy Park Hotel in New York was still in business, and still a moderately cool place for people to host things. We were at a party on the hotel’s terrace on an unseasonably warm spring night. A night that held the promise of summer.
We had a brief but memorable conversation about Joan Didion (we had both recently watched Griffin Dunne’s documentary Joan Didion: The Center Will Not Hold — (he liked it more than I). A bit later, as I was heading for the door, he asked if he could take me out to dinner.
"Oh, thank you," I replied. "I’m hiding under a rock, though. Had a horrible break-up. You know, all that," I said sweeping my arm across the room toward the New York City skyline outside in a gesture meant to encapsulate the big messiness of life.
He responded by looking me up and down with exaggerated slowness. I was wearing a fitted black leather sheath dress, Manolo Blahnik stilettos and red lipstick.
"You. In that," he gestured quizzically, pointing up and down toward my outfit, "That’s your version of ‘hiding under a rock’?"
Over the next six months he occasionally called or sent a text. "How’s the rock?" he’d ask. "I imagine it’s getting dark under there."
When we finally had dinner, in late October, we fell hard for each other. We began an intense and exciting long-distance relationship that involved trains, planes and automobiles. We were both starting new jobs that required extensive travel (his global), and he also had kids with issues. We’d travel hours to catch each other for a dinner and a night, then part and do it again — often last minute — days or weeks later. It couldn’t last, but our hearts broke when we finally realized after a couple of exhausting, exhilarating years, that it wasn’t going to work.
Many years after our break-up while advising me over lunch on a potential lover (or - was he perhaps commenting on us?) he said "If you’re looking for something convenient, Dish, you’re not looking for love. Love is a rapturous gift. Terrifically inconvenient, though."
I thought of Alexander for the first time in a while last month as I drove away from Kingly Cavaliers with a five-month old puppy jerryrigged into the seatbelt on the passenger side next to me.
My beloved Belgian Malinois Rikki had died suddenly of liver cancer five months earlier and my Mother had been on me about getting another dog. "I’m not even considering another dog yet," I said to try to shut down the conversation. But she kept at it every few weeks.
I have primarily taken in rescue dogs, but my Mother had done the research and decided that I needed to focus at this stage on a breed with characteristics that easily fit into a lifestyle that included lots of travel, as well as staying as a guest with family and friends who already had dogs, or kids. So, small enough to fit under an airplane seat, congenial and not prone to bark. She’d decided on a King Charles Cavalier for me.
That’s why, a week before Thanksgiving, I was headed to Kingly Cavalier to be interviewed by Julie, the owner. If she deemed me suitable, she’d explained over the phone beforehand, I’d go on her waitlist and would likely end up with a puppy sometime in the summer or early fall. "That timing," I thought, “would be convenient. By then, I’d be ready for one.” The construction on my place would be done, I’d be in one place for a while and I’d clear my backyard of the infamous killer bufo frogs that plague South Florida, and other hazards. Plus, I’d be over Rikki, or at least more over Rikki.
That was my plan.
But I got to Kingly Cavalier early, while Julie was still doing playtime with about 10 puppies. One, clearly meant for me, jiggled her little body up to mine and started batting her seductive, beautiful large brown eyes at me. She was the only black and tan puppy in the mix.
Julie gently picked up the little puppy, bringing her over to the other side of the room. “I’m keeping this sweet little girl," she said. "She is a perfect example of the black-and-tan Cavalier, so I’m holding her back to breed her."
That was Julie’s plan.
But when she put her down, the puppy ran back over to me. Those imploring, beautiful large brown eyes were looking up, tail wagging vivaciously back and forth.
We fell hard for each other.
Next thing I knew, I’d written Julie a check for a ghastly amount that I don’t dare admit to and never thought I’d pay for a dog from a breeder when there are perfectly lovable dogs needing homes at shelters. And Koko and I were heading to PetSmart for everything I could think of getting for her first few days at home: a bed, a kennel, a harness, leash, car seat, food, toys.
My life wasn’t set up for a puppy. It was mid November and I was heading North for the holidays. I had a day to get Koko into a vet, rebook my flights onto legs that still had an allotment for a pet, head back to PetSmart for a dog coat, and rethink my housing and party plans.
Puppies like structure, and providing them the same daily routine accelerates good behavior and training. Koko has flown round-trip with me six times, stayed in five different places and also been to overnight camp once.
That probably explains why her training is not going smoothly.
The very first naughty thing she did was bring a stick back with her from the park, jump onto my new black marble Saarinen dining room table. She scratched it.
Things have continued in a similar vein.
She almost got caught in my neighbor’s rat trap, she was stalked by a puppy-devouring fox and she has broken out of her kennel to chew up rugs and the legs of a priceless Chinese desk gifted to me by a wealthy ex-boyfriend (not Alexander).
“Love,” as Alexander says, “is a rapturous gift. Terribly inconvenient, though.”
The Crush Letter
The Crush Letter is a weekly newsletter from Dish Stanley curating articles & intelligence on everything love & connection - friendship, romance, self-love, sex. If you’d like to take a look at some of our best stories go to Read Us. Want the Dish?
