The Best Part of My Night

When I was single and living in New York, the best part of my night was when I got home after being out with friends at dinner, parties, movies or just hanging out. I would take my dog, Sophie for a walk. Whether it be 11 p.m. or 2 a.m., I would walk with her about my neighborhood, the central Village, just above Washington Square Park. I usually stopped by a Korean deli for something sweet (a Baci chocolate). It was this lovely, post people and buzz, chill-out time that I adored and looked forward to.

I got Sophie, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, in Blenheim (the color combo she was — white with reddish, even markings), in early December 1994. I had just turned 26, had ended a long-term relationship, and had all this love and time to give, plus, I craved companionship, ownership, love.

I had to drive out to Hopewell, New Jersey, where her breeder was. I choose Sophie partly because she was the most beautiful, with the most even of markings, and also because I found her scrappy, always being pushed out of the fray, yet getting right back in there with her siblings.

I loved Sophie so intensely. The first night her crate was right up on my bed, next to my pillow. I felt so sorry that she was missing her mom and littermates. Her family. In fact, I did not sleep for two weeks straight, the first two weeks I had her. I wanted to tend to her every need, I just wanted to hold and behold her. I even got an eye infection, probably from lack of sleep, and ended up at the Emergency Room of St. Vincent’s Hospital, with her in her crate! I could not part from her for one minute.

Much like a newborn.

The best part of my night now, hands down, is when I give our baby, Clea-Noelle a bath and then her bottle, in my arms. She falls asleep, safe, up against my chest. I love it. It’s my peace and solace and quiet reward. And even if we are meeting friends out for dinner, or if I am rushing to a movie with my husband, Fotis, I make sure that I do this first. It’s my passion, my joy, my connection.

I drove cross-country with Sophie on my lap in October 1999. She slept on my lap all across flat Kansas, where the cruise control was on 70, and my legs were up and across to the passenger seat. I snuck her into Vegas. We celebrated in LA together. She moved out west with me in 2000, to Colorado, when I moved there, knowing no one, but knowing it was where I needed to be.

But I was not alone. I had Sophie, this beautiful, slightly high-strung, soft, loving and touching dog. She slept at my head. She loved men. She wanted me to find someone so she could love him as intensely too.

She died at 8 years old. Two years before Fotis re-entered my life.

She was, hands down, like Clea-Noelle, always, the best part of my night.

Do any of you have a nighttime connection that is its own reward at the end of your day? Please share your story below. 

Jennifer Dulos also blogs at www.fivemakesseven.com.