A Death in the Family

Our Nigel

Marlena grew up as a spoiled, and very lonely, child. My parents both worked full-time.  Like many other “latch key kids,” I eased my childhood loneliness by watching daytime soap operas. Soap characters became my childhood “friends”—and my involvement with them led to a 40-year career covering soaps.

My loneliness was cured decades later when I met my husband, Moose, a fellow adjunct professor of journalism at New York University.

One summer day in 2009, Moose and I were taking a ride in rural New Jersey, and we saw a sign: “Beagles for Sale.” I was an ardent Snoopy fan, and always knew I wanted my own beagle boy. We went to see the breeder, and there he was—the most beautiful black puppy. We fell in love with him immediately and took him home. Naturally, I named him Nigel Bartholomew-Smythe, after the hilarious and charming butler and confidante to Asa Buchanan  on One Life to Live. I had interviewed Peter Bartlett, the actor who played Nigel, backstage at OLTL many times and had seen him in a number of shows, both on- and off-Broadway.

“Why did you name your dog Nigel?” friends have asked over the years. The answer: Because our Nigel was as handsome and charismatic as the amazing actor he was named for.

From then on, Nigel was by my side every afternoon as I have watched soaps. It wasn’t long before he became a regular in my columns. One day an associate producer sighted pictures of him and asked me if my boy would do a guest appearance on General Hospital, playing a friend of Franco’s.   The offer was tempting, but I couldn’t bear the thought of putting my boy in an airline carrier. He stayed home with us in New York.

Even so, little Nigel was a star from day one. The young lady police cadets who trained at the police academy next door to us in Manhattan would squeal and go bonkers whenever they saw him on the street.

Nigel was as brave as he was debonair. One day, while walking him, I fell on the pavement and broke my elbow. He stayed by my side instead of running off. Another time, when we were living in Pennsylvania, a would-be robber came to our door seeking drugs. Nigel took one look at him and barked his head off. The hero dog may have saved my life.

We had 16 wonderful years with Nigel. On my birthday this year, we received the horrible news that he had terminal cancer. He passed away on Thursday, Dec. 14.

Over the last 16 years, the once again  lonely Marlena has learned that there is no love like a dog’s love.