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Around this time last week I returned to my apartment from an outing with my dog and killing her at vet. Harry Nilsson’s “Down to the Valley” played in my head on the way home and kept me from breaking down in the midst of traffic.
Music is a powerful thing.
Everything seemed normal at home. I scooped up my laundry and headed out. Might as well take advantage of vacating a coveted Nob Hill parking space to run errands.
I tried out the new laundrymat/cafe called Brainwash on Folsom. In between sobs, I ordered breakfast and busied my mind with my laundry.
Instinctively I chose an outdoor table to eat. Sadly as I tucked into my meal, I notice a very convenient perfectly sized tree righ in front of me. However, my find was useless because I now longer have dog to tie to it and share my meals with.
There seemed to be happy dogs riding in cars everwhere that day, but they did not bring me to tears. Dogs are instant happy makers and I find it hard to be sad in the presence of happy dog.
I just hope that my dog is happy…wherever her spirit may be.
Myo Renge Kyo