The Willy Wagon – In Honor of Wilson Bailey

We’re posting a day early in honor of Wilson Bailey (aka Willy). If you’re familiar with our back story then you know exactly who Wilson is. If you’re not, we would like to introduce you to him on this very special day (August 6)… his birthday. Wilson, along with his sister, Nina, inspired us to “get out there” and live. To be adventurous and to take full advantage of this very short life we all have to live. Most importantly, to prioritize the important stuff. We named our tiny home after Wilson, and after reading this short story, you’ll know why.

Our tiny Airstream home, “The Willy Wagon”, inherited its name from the original wagon first introduced to our family in 2015. The original, however, isn’t an older model of our Airstream as most might assume. It’s not a RV at all. No, the original Willy Wagon is much smaller than a RV. And although simple by comparison and in appearance, it played a much more important role than sheltering us and carried something much cuter and more precious, too.

Its four wheels, long handle, and soft interior was a greatly depended upon mode of transportation for the greatest dog that ever lived. His name was Wilson Bailey (aka “Willy”). He was born on the forever notable date of August 6, 2000, and then sadly made his departure on December 4, 2017. He was over seventeen years old when he left our world for Doggy Heaven, and although that seems like a lifetime to most humans, it wasn’t nearly long enough for us.

Willy and The Original Wagon

You see, Wilson truly was the greatest dog that ever lived. He not only possessed all the qualities we love so much about dogs, but he left no room for us to doubt them. For over seventeen years, not a day went by when Wilson’s unconditional love and devotion wasn’t felt. Yes, Wilson was our best friend. He was everything the world around us failed to deliver every day, and he was the comfort and wisdom needed to grow from the disappointments. He was whatever we needed him to be, when we needed it, without fail. He made us better people. His love, friendship and devotion were unparalleled by any other. There was definitely something special, almost human, about Wilson. Something that could never be described on paper because it was conveyed by Wilson without ever using words.

Wilson was highly intelligent

But he was still able to goof around with the best of em’. He had a wonderful sense of humor!

And of course, he was both handsome and adorable

Wilson was so great that a Coca Cola was named after him!

Now that you know a little about Wilson and what he meant to us, you can probably imagine the sadness we felt as we watched our best friend’s health start to decline. He was fifteen years old when his bones started to ache and his heart started to slow. Those daily walks we all looked forward to were painful for Wilson, so they were shortened to a fraction of what they used to be. And although Wilson could still find joy in those short walks, we knew it wasn’t enough and that we had to find a way to get him beyond the end of our street.

Wilson was a big guy, weighing in at 65 pounds (all muscle at one time), so carrying him wasn’t an option. We knew we had to find something that would hold his weight and allow us to pull him those distances he couldn’t manage on his own. We had no idea what to look for, but the search began nevertheless.

I don’t remember how we found it, but we did. A basic, blue, nylon wagon from Dick’s Sporting Goods, which cost us thirty-five dollars. I’m not sure of its intended use, but as it would turn out it was exactly what we needed. We unfolded it, placed a comfy blanket inside on the bottom to make it extra soft, and then placed Wilson in it. He loved it immediately and we hadn’t even gone anywhere. We were still in the living room inside our home but the look on his face told us he knew what it was for.

That blue wagon would prove to be life-changing for Wilson. We used it every day. Wilson would walk as far as he could and then we would hoist him into the wagon and continue the journey by pulling our friend behind us. People would see us in our neighborhood and smile and laugh, and make comments like “that’s so adorable!” Cars would honk at us as we pulled him down the sidewalk along a busy street. And when we stopped somewhere to let him walk on a patch of grass, anyone present would approach and start asking questions about our “situation.” Wilson got to go everywhere and meet so many people because of his wagon. He even participated in the March of Dimes in Charleston, SC. Anyone with a camera that day took a picture of him. And when he went for a stroll in his wagon along the Battery in Charleston, the tourists were just beside themselves when Wilson rolled by. Everyone loved Wilson and his wagon!

The Battery in Charleston, SC

Enjoying the view

Wilson got out of his wagon to take it all in. Wilson says “Treat every day like your ship is coming in!”

Wilson and Mommy

Wilson loved his wagon just as much as everyone else did, and considering how it changed his life, it was deserving of a name. We couldn’t think of anything more fitting than “The Willy Wagon.” Wilson knew its name, too. He would get so excited if someone said “You wanna go for a ride in The Willy Wagon?”, and then slowly make his way alongside it where he would patiently wait for someone to pick him up and put him in. He loved being pulled around outside. Sometimes he positioned himself as if he were hanging his head out the window of a vehicle. Other times, on those really long walks, he would fall asleep like an infant does in a car. Only when the wagon came to a stop would he wake up, but then fall right back to sleep once we started moving again. Oh, how Wilson loved his wagon. It was his connection to the outdoors and his family, and we loved it for all the same reasons.

Daddy photo-bombed Wilson!

Wilson used that wagon for over two years. During that time frame we acquired the Airstream we now live in, which we originally named Sylvester. Our next immediate purchase was another wagon for Wilson, green this time, to be stored in Sylvester for when we traveled. Wilson was able to vacation with us more than a few times in Sylvester before he passed away, and at each location we visited we gladly pulled him along our scenic hikes.

Wilson going for a walk on MacDill AFB in Tampa, Fl (his green wagon nearby)

The first beach Wilson ever went to (MacDill AFB). He even played in the water. It was a memorable day.

Wilson dining with Mommy and Daddy at Hellas in Tarpon Springs, Fl. (Sept. 2017)

Wilson was near-sighted

Wilson camped with us at Edisto Beach State Park in SC, too

And we pulled him along our scenic hikes. Wherever we went… Willy went!

Wilson traveled to other cities, like Jacksonville and New Port Richey, Fl, to visit family as well. But no matter where we were, at the end of the day he slept right next to his Mommy on the bed in the Airstream. Daddy slept on the convertible dinette 🙂  Daddy always looked out for Wilson.

Mommy’s missing from this photo because Wilson was a late riser. Wilson loved to sleep… especially as he got older.

Just waking up

He always peered out the window after waking up, as if to say “It’s a new day!”

Wilson always napped on his “little” bed during the daytime hours.

And sometimes he would ask us, politely, to keep the noise down. He was always so polite.

But at night-time, Wilson and Mommy were always together on the big bed.

So, as you can see, Wilson’s two wagons had the awesome responsibility of safely carting around our beloved Wilson. They were also Wilson’s connection to life beyond the end of our street. They gave him something to look forward to, a sense of adventure, a new outlook on life. They allowed Wilson to continue doing all the things he loved, and most importantly, allowed our family to do those things together. We believe Wilson lived a little longer than he would have because of his wagons, and of course… the love and devotion of his family.

We still have both of Wilson’s wagons. The blue one is in storage but the green one is tucked away in our tiny home exactly where it was when Wilson traveled with us. When we planned to travel the United States, we thought, or hoped, Wilson would join us. So, although his wagon sits unused, it’s exactly where it belongs. We like knowing it’s there, too. Every time we see it we envision Wilson being pulled down the road with the wind blowing in his hair. We’re reminded of his outlook on life, his sense of adventure, and the importance of family and love. We’re inspired by Wilson to experience life beyond the end of our street, just like he did in his wagon.

Our tiny home is now our wagon. And in honor of Wilson, our best friend and the greatest dog that ever lived, we renamed it “The Willy Wagon.”

Wilson Bailey (aka – Willy, Sir Wilson, Fuzzy Face, Cutie Patutie, Bud-Bud) 8/6/00 – 12/4/17