In my best moments of clarity, I acknowledge that this dog (the critter on the left), doesn't have too much pug life left on earth.
I believe she's more than 16 years old. so you don't have to tell me she's living on borrowed time.
But every day, Pugsy wakes up, gives a round of snorts, rubs her nose into anything that will squeeze out the mucous in her sniffer and gives me the "where-is-my-grub" look on her face.
This morning Jared and I biked backed to my apartment, where I swapped my road bike for the Surly Pugsley (not to be confused with Pugsy).
Uncle Jared gave Pugsy one final High 5 before we pedaled away for some fattie-tire dirt riding on the Bear's Best trails near his Las Vegas Cyclery bike shop.
Pugsy and Jared are a lot alike in this regard -- they live their lives as full as they can every day.
Pugsy's hips don't allow her to cover distances anymore.
But she lives her life as much as one can expect a dog from a dog that has experienced 16 laps around the sun in her life.
She actually shows quite a bit of life first thing in the morning, which is probably more than what we can say for most of us.
And she gets around where she needs to go to be happy in life.
This is where Jared goes when he wants to be happy -- the high desert outside Vegas.
We compared our purple fattie mountain bikes -- Deep Purple on Neon Purple.