“…Dogs have such a short lifespan because it’s part of their loving service to us. They are here, among other reasons, to teach us how to die—because they are so good at it, and we are so bad at it…Dogs see all the fear and anxiety that we humans carry around about the subject of death and—loving us as they do—they take pity on us. Wanting to help, they volunteer to die early, as a way of saying: “Look! It’s not hard! Let me show you how! All you have to do is let go. Here, watch…”
-Elizabeth Gilbert
I’ve only experienced love at first sight twice in my life. The first time was when I saw the back of my future husband’s head.
The second time was when I met Stevie Wonderdog.
Stevie was our little miracle dog who came to us by chance (or fate). Dear friend and dogdaddy Trac Minh Vu heard I was in the market and called me to say a friend of a friend was fostering a dog who needed a home and would I be interested? I went for a visit and our “trial weekend” has lasted almost a decade.
The minute I met Stevie, he plopped into my lap and looked at me with this expression of, “Here you are. What took you so long? Let’s go home.” When I met him, there was a deep recognition in my soul. Yes, this was my soulmate. Yes, I’m taking him home.
For the past nine and a half years, it’s been a joy and adventure. Many of you have seen this supermodel in my newsletters as the official mascot of Rhea Wong Consulting, but he’s more than just a ridiculously good-looking dude. This little guy could be alternately a furry tyrant, a shameless food thief or a sweet cuddler. He’s 85% sweetheart, 10% butthead, 5% Cujo.
Most of the time he was a fun-loving, food-obsessed guy. He enjoyed long walks through Brooklyn with his humans with his jaunty little strut, tail cocked to the right. Our walks were a combination of him finding new places to pee (“Stevie was HERE and HERE and HERE!) and me watching out for street meat strewn about. He was not a fan of other dogs and often found their penchant for sticking their snouts into his butt to be quite forward (“Well, I never.”) I would take him to the dog park and he would have zero interest in other dogs (“Mom, why are we here with these ANIMALS when we could be on the couch? I am peoples.”) but was a big fan of young, pretty women (“Oh, hey, girl. Howyoodoin? Can I just rub my butt against you?”). He also wows the crowd by howling love songs when he’s nuzzled.
He wasn’t perfect. There were times that he would go full Cujo and he wasn’t above biting. Here’s a shortlist of things that would set him off: skateboarders, fast-moving objects, loud noises, vacuum cleaners, people who left the house, black shoes, grabby children, other dogs who tried to climb onto my lap and trying to take rotting chicken bones out of his mouth. He could go from “JK living” to “Get off my lawn!” in a heartbeat.
He usually felt remorseful afterward, but he is a passionate man and sometimes emotion gets the better of him. He also has the memory of a goldfish and would be genuinely confused when we were upset because he’d taken a nip out of someone. He is truly a being who lives in the moment–there is no yesterday, there is no tomorrow. There is only now. As in “Treats, now.”
One of the most remarkable things about him was his ability to tell time, specifically meal times when he would start smacking his bowl at exactly 8:30AM and 6:00PM (which eventually creeped up to 5:30 then 4:30. He truly embraced the audacity of hope.) We shared a love of long, luxurious weekend naps and he was my favorite companion for binging trash TV (Stevie would like you to know that he has some feelings about the latest Bridgerton.) He was also a great little roaddog and loved nothing more than new destinations and riding in cars with the wind blowing back his corn-chip smelling ears.
Stevie is a Lhasa Apso which they say are reincarnated monks and sentinels of the inner Tibetan temples. I often found myself staring deep into his eyes and wondering what kind of bossy, grumpy, non-Zen monk were you?
The most remarkable thing about Stevie is who I became because of him. Stevie brought me closer to my humanity and being a better human. Because of him, I found a capacity for unconditional love, patience and caretaking that I never knew I had.
In exchange, I became the center of his universe. I’d never been a dog’s “person” before and it is a huge honor and responsibility to know that he thinks the sun rises and sets on me, that I hung the moon and that I should strive to be the person my adoring dog thinks I am.
Today is the day that our beloved, demanding, lion-hearted, sweet boy is leaving us. Right now he is curled up on the couch where he spends most days and the vibrant, joyous dog we knew is a husk of his former self. Today is the day we walk him to the foot of the rainbow bridge and let him go. He will leave as he lived: surrounded by love and swaddled in comfort.
I hope that we get reincarnated together again in the next life. In this life, he taught me about love, generosity, selflessness and joy. Though my heart is breaking, I remind myself that the cracks are where the light gets in.
He’s done what he was meant to do this lifetime and now his watch is ending. His humans will be OK and he did a fine job of protecting our temple.
I hope that rainbow bridge is studded with chicken wings, lots of trees to pee on and pretty adoring angels ready to scratch his butt. He deserves nothing less after a lifetime of fierce devotion.
Thanks to everyone who has loved Stevie. He is a good boy.
PS: If you’d like to help, send pictures of your furbabies with captions for future newsletters as Stevie is no longer our cover model.
PPS: Listen to your favorite Stevie Wonder jam (here’s Stevie’s) and have a treat. Stevie would want that for you.
