A letter

Dear Jazzy-

   We got you when I was 3. We were “the little ones.” We “grew up” together. You were the puppy and I was the baby. I remember my mom being on the phone talking to the people, and saying that she was going to pick you up from LAX in a few days. Katie named you Princess Jasmine Horwitch, after Jasmine from Aladdin. But we called you Jazzy for short. You came with us from the Encino house to Calabasas. You were scared to walk up and down the stairs, so we had to carry you. You wouldn’t go to the bathroom in the sideyard, so my mom told my dad to show you how to do it. My mom wouldn’t let me take you on walks when I was little because she thought you would drag me when you started running. Then one day you did and I skinned my knee. I was walking you when we found the baby bunnies in the box down the street. I though it was a snake and quickly ran you back up to the house. I remember when Maddy, the Great Dane from across the street, bit you in the neck. We were all so scared, but you were fine. You kept on running around like nothing happened. You had you’re “spaz-attacks” and would run like a mad man around the house until you couldn’t run anymore. I would be playing soccer or baseball in the backyard and you’d run and try and chase the ball….but never fetch. We had so many nicknames for you: Jazz, Boosie, Mrs. Fitelberg, Spaz. At Christmas you had your own stocking, and there was always a bone under the tree for you. When I was really little I would take a picture of you on vacation with me- wherever we traveled. I guess I saw people in movies bring pictures of family with them on trips. Since my family was with me, I brought you. We always though of you as the 3rd kid, and I think you thought of yourself like that too. It was always Katie, Alex, and Jazzy. Mom calls the kids into the room. In run Katie, Alex, and Jazzy. Always. You would wait with me and mom for carpools to Castlemont, or the bus/van to Camp Kinneret. You were in the car when we got a flat tire a block away from the Encino house. You were in the car when we got into an accident outside of the Commons after one of your joint birthday parties with Amber Mainstain. 
When we got Bella we thought it would change you, and you would realize you were a dog. But Bella just brought out a more playful side. You never had another dog to play with, and suddenly there was one that wouldn’t leave you alone. Although you may not be as active as you once were, you are still my Jazzy. My Boosie. My dog. My first pet. For 15 years you have been a constant in my life. From Temple Judea, to Castlemont, to AE Wright and AC Stelle, and all the way to Senior year of Calabasas High, you have been the thing that never changed. Yes, you may have gotten older and slower, but it has still always been you; my Jazzy. I don’t want to say goodbye, but I have to. It’s something that has to be done. But nothing can take away pictures, videos, and memories. Like how mom talks about Pixie, or Alfie, or Terry, or Casey Jones, or how dad talks about “The Friz’s,” I will talk about you. I will always have you in my mind, and through pictures. Whenever I watch or see something about Aladdin, I will think of you, Princess Jasmine Horwitch. Bella will miss you. Mom and Dad and Katie will miss you. But I will miss you more than anything. I love you, and goodbye
   -Alex 

RIP
Princess Jasmine “Jazzy” Horwitch
July 3, 1993-January 22, 2008
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2 Responses to A letter

  1. Katie says:

    I love you. I am so glad I found this amidst all the facebook applications cluttering your page (and all our pages, at that). I couldn’t have written a better letter myself…

    (I don’t remember if I told you this or not)…I was talking to mom yesterday about the rain. And I said, “If what the Rabbi at Erica Wolfish’s dad’s funeral said was true — about the rain — then Jazzy must have had a pretty damn perfect life. She’s kinda rubbing it in all our faces right now.”

  2. Polly says:

    I am crying. Tears don’t cease to roll from my eyes. I have two dogs, and I can’t imagine what I would do when their time will come. This letter has opened you for me on the other hand, Alex. And I’m very sorry for Jazzy.

    (I’m sorry for my english. Yours faithfully from Russia)

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