Our beloved sweet old Lucy left us this morning, leaving us brokenhearted—but so happy to have been family to such a spunky, spirited, silly doggie. She was a very tiny dog but she took up a lot of space in our hearts and our home, and even already, both feel so much emptier.
Lucy was a real pro at being batted by her sister, Stella Cat, and epitomized how to be a non-partisan peaceful party—even while being bopped in slow motion by a much larger kitty. We will miss Lucy’s vivaciousness (she ran around like a lunatic when we used to take her to the VegNews office in Hollywood where she sampled all the vegan dog treats that were sent in for editorial consideration—she thought they were all AMAZING), her openness to everyone (she never met a dog she disliked … not to say she *liked* them, but she definitely didn’t dislike them), and her stellar communication skills (we’ve never in our lives met any other individual who was better at making her needs abundantly clear—including scratching at the door to go out, scratching at the bowl for more food, and scratching at the bowl again when it wasn’t the exact food she wanted).
A true darling mutt, we used to make bets about what kind of dog she was because she didn’t look like anyone else—a fuzzy Chi? An ungroomed Pomeranian? A cute wet rat? She was just … Lucy. Sweet, funny Lucy.
In LA, we (and her Auntie Mai Lei) used to take her to the many dog parks—where she mostly hung out under benches to avoid the sun. In the car, she demanded the window be down so that she could stick her fuzzy face out the window, her long blonde locks billowing in the wind, Farrah Fawcett-style.
She was with us when we eloped in Vegas, not protesting one bit when Elvis Presley held her as we exchanged nuptials. We took her to the casino afterward and she wore her best bow tie (and didn’t gamble too much).
When we moved to New York in a rented RV, Lucy fiercely protested like the true daughter of two activists—until we moved her to a comfy bed smushed in the front between the driver and passenger, where she was very happy for the next nine days.
She was independent, opinionated, and extremely curious—and even today, on her last day with us, she wanted to poke around a little to check out the scene around her.
Our darling Lucy suffered at the end, but—thankfully—only for a few weeks, until it was extremely clear that sickness had overtaken her and it was indeed her time.
There is something wrong with the system: we bury our children. We decide when they die.
But it is also such a gift to be able to hold them as they peacefully leave this orbit, as they drift away.
We loved this dog with our entire heart and soul, and our family will never be quite the same. She leaves behind her two grieving moms, her kitty sister Stella, and the old chihuahuas—Birdie and George. She has also touched the hearts of many of our friends and chosen family, many of whom immediately became self-proclaimed aunties.
The world is a little sadder today—but if we are able to continue her legacy, then it will be full of feistiness and funniness, and her spirit will remain indomitable.
We love you, Lucy. Thank you for being our girl.
Xo,
Moore & Jazz
Jasmin, such a beautiful tribute to Lucy. My heart goes out to you and your family. I hope you find peace and comfort in your many wonderful memories of Lucy.
Such a sweet face. So sorry for your loss.