In which Dish reminisces about a tempestuous 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 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 difficult relationships with his grown kids from a previous wife. We’d travel hours to catch each other for a dinner and a night, then part and do it again — often last minute — weeks later. When we were together, we enjoyed each other, but we weren’t together enough to build something. And, alas, more importantly, I “couldn’t help but notice” (as they say) that his personal history was a destruction zone of failed romantic and familial relationships. It couldn’t last, but our hearts broke when we finally realized after an exhausting, exhilarating year, that it wasn’t going to work.
Every couple of years when he is in New York, we grab lunch. The last one was at Caravaggio in the fall of 2023. He was dating an opera singer, even though he loathes the opera. “Last week at the Met I feel asleep,” he admitted. Then, while advising me over a potential lover (or - was he perhaps commenting on them, or 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. You fall, and then you make room and figure it out … but you, Dish, you are not somebody who would want to miss out on the chance for another great love.”
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 young kids. So, small enough to fit under an airplane seat, congenial, adaptable 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 six to 12 months later. "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 jiggled her little body up to mine and started batting her seductive, beautiful large brown eyes at me. Julie would pick her up and put her back in the playing mob of pups, but she’d break out and head in my direction. She only had eyes for me.
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 again. 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 up and down the East Coast six times, stayed in five different places with friends and family. There have been planes, trains and automobiles. As with any new serious love interest, she’s been a lovely little tornado in my life. Calendars have been adjusted; friends and family have made room, been patient, warm and understanding. (So have their children, grandchildren and dogs.)
That lack of structure probably explains why her training is not going as smoothly as hoped, so far.
The first naughty thing she did was bring a stick back with her from Central Park, jump onto my new splurgey black marble Saarinen dining room table and scratch it.
She almost got caught in my neighbor’s rat trap, she was stalked by a puppy-devouring fox, she has broken out of her kennel, only to eventually be found snuggling in my nephew‘s sheets. There have been emergency vet visits I won’t recount.
Things have calmed down inside now that she’s a bit older, but lately she has been focused on outside adventures.
The latest occurred last week. She escaped through the fence in my yard Monday morning. An email alert with her photo was sent around by a neighbor and before I knew it, kindly folks were out in their pajamas yelling “KOKO!” The police came in as well, soon enough, with notebooks, badges and flashing lights. Eventually the guy across the block walked out of his house with Koko wrapped in his arms. She had walked across the street, he said, when he was out picking up his newspaper. She had followed him inside, then climbed into his lap while he drank his coffee. “Great snuggler!” he reported. She didn’t have her tags on and he was figuring out what to do when he noticed the email alert.
The crowd cheered at her appearance, the police shook their heads and got back into their police cars. My heart, which had felt desperate and fevered during the search for her, began to settle. Everybody headed back home for breakfast, Koko wondering what all the fuss was about.
”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?
