Yarzheit from the Rue des Rosiers
A year ago today, my dog, Blueberry, died. It was a month before his seventeenth birthday and I loved him very much. Today, walking around the Rue des Rosiers, I was hit by the fact that this weekend was the first anniversary of his death and I had done nothing to commemorate it. So I bought a yarzheit, the candle lit to commemorate a death, and recited a prayer for him tonight. Blueberry was like a brother to me and, needless to say, I miss him very much.
He was in Paris several times, so I like to think that woandering streets he had been down today, he was there with me in some way. I passed by Sacha Finkelstajn's, closed on Tuesdays, and remembered their delicious chopped liver and how Blue ate his fair share of it one afternoon when we were out sight-seeing, I believe at Giverny, and he was stuck in the car with the chopped liver. My dad says Blue liked Paris so much because so many dogs here looked like him. Maybe. I like to think it was because he enjoyed food as much as the rest of us. He joined us in a French restaurant one night and must have thought he had gone to Heaven. Well, he's there now and I only hope there are wonderful restaurants there for him, or whatever it is that he desires.
If you have a pet, hug him. Cuddle with her. Play with her. Tell him you love him.
Blueberry, I will always love you.
No comments:
Post a Comment