Cindy Adams on getting Jazzy: I learned quickly what it means to have a dog’s life. It means having a better one than my own.
Jazzy on living with Cindy Adams: Living with a gossip columnist is tough. She wags her tongue more than I wag my tail.
Jazzy was a gift from a friend. Cindy Adams, New York Post’s famous gossip columnist, neither asked for nor expected the two pound bundle of joy, who arrived a week after she lost her husband, entertainer, Joey Adams. She was thrust into instant coupledom once again – only this time with a dog. Jazzy required Cindy to learn the lingo of another world – the world of trainers, groomers, vets and canine behaviorists. Although resistant at first, Cindy caved in to the self-centered and demanding Yorkshire Terrier, who came to be her other half.
Jazzy Adams quickly became used to his new life – a life in the spotlight, a life where it was not out of the realm of possibility (in fact it indeed happened) that Jazzy could throw mishaps into motion; affecting world famous (and infamous) figures like Manuel Noriega, Imelda Marcos, and Sylvester Stallone. He’d accidentally hang up a phone, block a doorway, or engage in other “innocent” behaviors. This would lead to misunderstandings, and once to an unforgetable scene: Mrs. Adams (in a robe) and Mrs. Marcos (impeccably dressed) eating a fast-food Christmas dinner in the elevator bank of Cindy’s apartment building, having been “for the love of Jazzy” locked out of her home.
A blue-blooded Englishman, Jazzy is a natural at receiving the royal treatment- from his preferred scrambled egg and chicken liver breakfasts (with chilled Evian), to designer doggy shampoos and pawdicures. His social calendar is reportedly full with doggy birthdays and bark mitzvahs.
Despite Jazzy’s obvious high-maintenance nature, this little guy (reportedly smaller than some toupees) has stolen her heart. Says Cindy, “Whether this is why I phone from across the world just to hear Jazzy bark, why I actually sniff his ears because I was told a bad odor right there is a sign of unwellness, why I take his temperature to be sure he’s fine, why I massage his gums with my finger with a doggy toothpaste that tastes like peanut butter because I sense he won’t floss by himself, why I cut up a brand-new maroon, cashmere, four-ply turtleneck to make a sweater for him, who the hell knows. I only know its true love.”
To read more about Cindy and Jazzy, check out “The Gift of Jazzy,” in which Cindy gossips about herself, and her own life with a dog that filled a void and helped her to open the next chapter of her life.
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