If I ran the zoo

The clouds broke and the sun made a rare appearance on Sunday and I texted my dog-walking buddies and we all showed up at the off-leash dog park.

Just as we were leaving our cars in the parking lot, Betsy got a text and announced that Kobe Bryant had been killed in a helicopter crash along with his four young daughters. We all went into an immediate funk, praying that his widow could somehow someday overcome this horrifying unimaginable grief.

As we walked the dogs, we continued to get updates and finally found out that Kobe and his eldest daughter, 13-year-old Gianna, were in the chopper on the way to a girls’ basketball game and, with six other passengers and the pilot, died in the hills north of Los Angeles.

Still beyond horrible, but I thought, thank God, his widow Vanessa will have three daughters to raise and they will someday be able to overcome this tragedy.

I was in a terrible funk and ended our dog walk early and headed home. The sun was just starting to go down and I saw the most spectacular sunset and I pulled over and took out my camera and I thought, no matter who we are, famous, not famous, rich or poor, we are blessed to be on this Earth and we have to say a prayer every day and thank God or Darwin or just the Universe for whatever time we have on this planet.

Kobe got to soar through the air with the greatest of ease during his remarkable career and I’m imagining him moving through the Universe the same way, including his daughter Gianna and the other seven victims of the crash.