“For lovers of Paris or anyone who has ever loved a dog.”

     We cross the rue de Vaugirard and go in the exit near the Orangerie, this section forbidden to dogs. I am not worried. At least we are walking toward the dog area, not away from it as so often we are, and we stroll slowly, soaking up the greenery and diffident sunbeams. We walk right around by the base of the palace and past all the guards, but they are not the ones patrolling the grounds; they are only concerned with protecting the palace itself.
      The little café of the Luxmebourg sits near the Medici fountain in the shade of the trees. Some of the leaves have already fallen, but many remain. I’m starving and, except for a brief stint in my arms and the respite at the Café de la Mairie, Lauren’s short legs have been walking most of the day.
      There are plenty of tables and chairs outside. I wipe off two and Lauren hops up on her own chair and sits beside me patiently. She understands what this means. I know it will take a long time to be served. It always does. And when we are, the little man will try to push the Baba au Rhum on me. He always does. But I know I want the heaping plate of lentils and a citron pressé. And however mediocre the food, the ambience makes up for it. So does the company. Her eyes stare into mine and I say, “Lauren, I’m going to feed you, you just have to wait.” Behind us the bells of St-Sulpice begin to chime.

      I always wrote the date on the back of the restaurant tickets where I had eaten with Lauren. Had I looked on the back of the receipt from those many years ago at Le Zephyr, I would have found not only the date and “with Lauren” scribbled down, but also a quotation from Alfred de Musset. It read:

Un souvenir heureux est
peut-être sur terre,
Plus vrai que le bonheur.

     I looked over at Lauren there beside me like always. Her face was now all white. She looked up and into my eyes. In all my life, I have never known such sustained happiness as that which I’ve found when with her.[…]
      I cannot measure my love for Lauren. It’s not quantitative, but I can feel it. I always will. When I think back to everything we’ve done together, all the many places we’ve been, I feel that I fill up with joy.[…] The more we love the more we risk to lose and therefore stand to fear. But that’s okay, for if we don’t give our hearts away, they shrivel up. I gave my heart away to a strange little dog and oh, how she’ll break it when she dies. But the joy of these days and months and years spent in each other’s company strolling, eating, sleeping, learning and just being will be worth the pain and a thousand times more.[…]
      I realize Lauren has taught me more than any being on earth, for she’s taught me how to love. Maybe that’s why we’re put on this earth.

To order copies of LAUREN’S STORY
J.N. Townsend Publishing/ Publishing Works
www.amazon.com
www.barnesandnoble.com
www.basicnecessities.us
Or please ask at your local bookstore.

“Lauren’s Story is a tribute to life, and an invitation to cherish
every moment of it…. It is also an essay on happiness, both human
and canine.”

                        --Susan Linden, Bark, the modern dog culture magazine

“Lauren’s Story is without contest my all-time favorite book about a love-affair with a nonhuman being. Lauren’s Story is the most heart-stopping beautiful, seamlessly written, cheerful, inspiring, mesmerizing, wise and funny book I’ve ever read about what animals can teach us about life, love, courage, peace, passion, and devotion. And Lauren’s legacy is proof that many of our most effective therapists, nurses, spiritual teachers, work-out coaches, dinner-dates, clowns, and angels have four legs instead of two! Read it and fall in love!”

---Amelia Kinkade, animal communicator
and author www.ameliakinkade.com