On animal years.

It's just not fair that our beloved pets have such short lives. We love them like we birthed them, they become a part of our lives, we watch them grow old and feeble, and inevitably have to experience the excruciating pain of their passing. When I started at my job nine years ago, our office had a mascot, G.G. My boss had found her beaten half to death on the boardwalk near his home when she was just a few years old. He was the only one daring enough to approach a wounded Pitbull, and thank God he was. G.G. is a wonderful dog. She is greedy and pushy, and doesn't like our mail man much, but she is truly a mush. I would always tell people that were too scared to come into our office, "Don't be afraid, she's a kitten trapped in a Pitbulls body!"

My boss retired a couple of years ago, and I haven't seen G.G. since. He came in today, and said he had a surprise. When I saw G.G. trotting through the door, my heart melted. She'd put on some weight as most of us women do in our old age =) but she just looked so old. Her once vibrant face was gray, her eyes had a kind of bloodshot look to them. She's 15ish now. Her real age was never known. She remembered us and went over to each desk to greet each person individually.

I tried to capture a shot of her with my phone, but as soon as I would press the button, she would move...so this was the best that I could do...



It made me sad to think that I probably won't see her again. So I said my goodbyes to her today. Her life started rough, but she was rescued by her prince charming and has a great life living upstate NY at my bosses property. She is a testament to the loving nature these dogs can have, even when they have experienced abuse.

I <3 you G.G.