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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 creature on earth, for she’s taught me how to love. Maybe that’s
why we’re put on this earth.
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STORY
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