In Memory of Blitz

We know that life is made up of small, ordinary, lovely things.

On Tuesday night, as I was driving to Walmart to do my grocery shopping, my mom called me and we talked (via Bluetooth, of course). She told me that she had sad news. Our family’s dog, Blitz Shantz, had died that day.


I am not an animal-lover, but I am very soft-hearted, and Blitz and I had many a nice time of just sitting peacefully together. So I was teary. Mom was teary.

We were sad, even though we knew that her body was old and at the point where dying was the best relief for her.

Blitz was just a dog. Just an ordinary, lovely, slightly overweight dog, who had been a part of our family for years. I don’t know how many years exactly. When I look back in my photo files, there are pictures of her in the “2011” folder, but I suspect that she was with us before that! She was a peaceful creature, who could just sit for a long time.

She was the kind of dog who just wanted to hold your hand.

She gently brought much life with her.




She was the kind of dog that you wanted to see lumbering towards you.


She was the kind of dog who made you feel loved. When you petted her, you felt like she was loving you. Not just loving the petting. Loving you.




All these things make me feel like it is okay to be a small, ordinary, gentle, loving soul.