VILLAGE PET PAGES By Joy and Brian Pape

My New Life Partner

By Howard Steinberg

It Was All Meant to Be in The West Village. I met Howard 20 years ago when the Queens native was starting his second company in the Connecticut suburbs where he lived and worked. We connected over shared philosophy and he hired me to work for his new health media business. That was the catalyst that brought us from Missouri to our forever home in the West Village. Howard and his buddy, Tico, recently moved to the West Village from Noho where he had been living the past five years. Just as we were meant to be here, Howard and Tico were meant to be here, together.  —Joy Pape

I moved to the city with my old black rescue mutt, Benny, to begin my new chapter of personal exploration and growth after I was nest emptied, divorced and stepping back from my start-up business life. His mode was “feed me and leave me alone and we’ll get along fine.”  Sadly, at age 11, Benny got suddenly ill in 2021 and I put him down as he struggled with severe pain.

I took a breather but felt a palpable void in my Noho loft apartment and in my new solo life. I set about adopting Betsy, a beige hound mix from Texas who was incredibly sweet but incredibly hyper-stimulated, lunging and pulling in every direction. At over 50 lbs., she was a handful on leash! She was impossible to control and train. I sought help and placed her in boarded training in NJ that was supposed be 4-6 weeks. They kept her for 15 weeks and upon returning, there were only modest changes. This was no life for either of us, so we found her a new home in the country with a fenced in yard and room to roam. 

The same adoption agency in CT asked me to take this other unclaimed little guy who was coming up on the next transport from Texas. I’d been through a lot with dogs those past few months and I wasn’t sure if I could take that risk again. They convinced me to treat this sweet little tyke as a foster.

“Button” was advertised as a chihuahua-terrier mix and house trained. He was neither. He was discovered by Border Patrol in Texas, roaming free and brought to a kill shelter in San Antonio which ships a lot of dogs north for adoption.

I drove up to CT to meet Tico at a rest stop on I-95. The transport had broken down enroute and 20 dogs were wailing, piled up in crates in a freezing cold U-Haul on the late November night. The driver was overwhelmed. Finally, he passed the yet-to-be renamed Tico to me and said, “oh this one had a rough time.”  I put him down on the frosty lawn and he peed for what seemed like five minutes. The poor guy had held it in since Virginia!!

I started calling him Tico to pay homage to his history at the Mexican border. He looked at me from the passenger side sitting on the wool blanket, so frightened and vulnerable with his bald spots below his chin and legs as he recovered from a case of mange.

The city noise and energy seemed to overwhelm little Tico and I thought, “oh no, here we go again! Covid, new life, dog traumas…not sure I can do this!” I played a soundtrack of city noise in the apartment so he could get accustomed to his new world and by day three he was learning to relieve himself on any small patch of dirt or grass near my former apartment on Great Jones Street.

Within a week Tico adapted like a champ and we grew closer as he displayed uncanny intuition and support. I soon learned that I had won the adoption lottery. I became a doting dog dad. My daughters laughed at how I babied him. I had lectured them when they were growing up that our dogs weren’t human and wanted to be lead and trained, not just loved.

The DNA test revealed Tico was half Australian Cattle Dog. You could see that in his face, the crown of his head and tip of his tail. He inherited the best qualities of that parent: wicked smart, extremely loyal and boundless energy. But he is also a very sweet cuddler and just wants to please.  Everyone loves Tico and his kind eyes.

Tico loves his new West Village neighborhood. Wherever I go, there he is with me, including a rogue runaround with playmates at the JJ Walker Ball Field where he zooms faster than any of his competitors.  He loves the plethora of tree gardens lining the West Village streets, long river walks and the quiet here vs. the more boisterous boulevards of Noho.

I’ve never experienced a dog with his level of intuition, loyalty and adaptability. I never had a connection with an animal like I have with Tico.  The dog rescue god must have decided that it was my turn. Tico became my true companion, blessing my life at a delicate time when I really needed his supremely unconditional love and companionship.