Ginger

From her Geezer Guardians: “Ginger was the most ridiculous dog I have ever met. From her big wrinkly jowls, her expressive little eyebrows always dancing with curiosity, to her adorable arthritic trot, she was as much a delight to watch exist as she was to love. When we finished a walk, she would bumble down the hill to our house and dive face-first into the grass, rubbing her face in the dirt and scooting along with her back legs and her big, adorable belly. She demanded pats wherever she went. She would just slowly lumber up and stand right in front of you until you committed to patting her. In fact, the first time I met her at the sanctuary, she did exactly that, sitting in front of me and staring into my soul until I knew she was our girl. Through all her medical treatments, her old lady aches and pains, she never complained or acted out. She just waited it out until she got a well-deserved treat and could climb back up to her favorite comfy spot on the couch. At night when we sat on the couch with her, she’d ungracefully plop right next to me and lift up a big paw to smack me every time I stopped petting her. I never minded, just looked down into her sweet, stinky, wrinkly old face and told her how much I loved her. Rain or shine (or snow!) she walked like a champ. Some days were slower than others, but she got a second wind for walkies, trot-hopping to the back door and clumsily down the stairs, where she waited patiently at the gate until I clipped her leash on. She’d stop as we walked to stick her whole head into a bush or a plant to investigate any smells. She’d jauntily trot just ahead of me, never pulling, her lopsided ears bouncing happily, mouth open like a smile. She’d perk up at other dogs and babies on our walks, just excited by the world around her. Once in a while, if we opened the gate too soon, she’d take off down the driveway without us, and then it turned into a game. She’d glance over her shoulder at us hustling after her, and trot just a liiiittle faster, until we were running down the street to catch this thirteen-year-old arthritic pup, laughing the whole time. She was full of life, and I think happy just for the chance to live it. Ginger was with us on our wedding day, she joined us on our honeymoon in Chattanooga, on a road trip to the North Carolina mountains. She rode along to our friends’ houses on Christmas, and she attended plenty of backyard barbecues. She slept beside us every night when we settled into bed, and she gleefully woke up with us every morning, hopping excitedly all the way to her food bowl (and getting very much in the way in the process). Thanks for trusting her with us, for taking her in for treatments (I always loved when we came to the sanctuary and everyone went ‘Ginger’s here!!’ because I knew y’all understood how special she was). Thanks for giving her some really wonderful extra time with her splenectomy. We had lots of trips to the park in that time, which she absolutely adored, always rushing to the car like it was the best thing that could happen, we had lots of cuddles and kisses and pup cups. It was time that we will always, always cherish, although it could never be enough. For us, or for her, who I think would keep living happy and stinky and ridiculous for all of eternity, if she could. 

Thanks for rescuing her so that we could have the privilege of being her parents. She deserved every ounce of love, and she made our lives so much fuller.”