Dog Lifespan Quotes

The fact is, all gangsters live in dog years. We come up fast in terms of making a name for ourselves, but, once our names have been established on the streets, we are on our way out.

I didn’t understand why someone would bring a dog or cat into their home, treat it like their child, and love it for years when they knew that animal’s lifespan was so much shorter than their own. It was like they were asking for their heart to be broken. Now, I understand. It’s because the time they spent together was worth the heartbreak.

Did he want Nick to die on the floor of his bathroom from an overdose of mentholated rub? Did he want me to spend the last eighty years of my lifespan in a convent? Maybe he was mad that I was trying to sneak out of the house wearing his jeans for the third day in a row. "I am taking Doofus for another walk," I said clearly,daring him to defy me. "That would not be good for Doofus." Josh folded his arms. "Mom,that would not be good for Doofus." Oh! Dragging Mom into this was low.Not to mention Doofus. "Since when is going for a walk not good for a dog?" I challenged Josh. "He's an old dog," Josh protested. "He's four!" I pointed out. "That's twenty-eight in dog years! He's practically thirty!" "Strike!" Mom squealed amid the noise of electronic pins falling. Then she shook her game remote at both of us in turn. "I'm not stupid, you know.And I'm not as out of it as you assume. I know the two of you are really arguing about something else.It's those jeans again, isn't it?" She nodded to me. "I should cut them in half and give each of you a leg.Why does either of you want to wear jeans with 'boy toy' written across the seat anyway?" "I thought that was the fashion." Josh said. "Grandma wears a pair of sweatpants with 'hot mama' written across the ass." "That is different," Mom hissed. "She wears them around the kitchen." I sniffed indignantly. "I said," I announced, "I am goig for a walk with my dog. My beloved canine and I are taking a turn around our fair community. No activity could be more wholesome for a young girl and her pet. And if you have a problem with that,well! What is this world coming to? Come along, dear Doofus." I stuck my nose in the air and stalked past them, but the effect was lost. Somewhere around "our fair community," Mom and Josh both had lost interest and turned back to the TV. Or so I thought.But just as I was about to step outside,hosh appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and the mud room. "What the hell are you doing" he demanded. I said self-righteously, "I am taking my loyal canine for a w-" "You're going to Nick's,aren't you?" he whispered. "Do you think that's a good idea? I heard you yelled at him for no reason at the half-pipe,right before he busted ass.

BEST FRIENDS SHOULD BE TOGETHER We’ll get a pair of those half-heart necklaces so every ask n’ point reminds us we are one glued duo. We’ll send real letters like our grandparents did, handwritten in smart cursive curls. We’ll extend cell plans and chat through favorite shows like a commentary track just for each other. We’ll get our braces off on the same day, chew whole packs of gum. We’ll nab some serious studs but tell each other everything. Double-date at a roadside diner exactly halfway between our homes. Cry on shoulders when our boys fail us. We’ll room together at State, cover the walls floor-to-ceiling with incense posters of pop dweebs gone wry. See how beer feels. Be those funny cute girls everybody’s got an eye on. We’ll have a secret code for hot boys in passing. A secret dog named Freshman Fifteen we’ll have to hide in the rafters during inspection. Follow some jam band one summer, grooving on lawns, refusing drugs usually. Get tattoos that only spell something when we stand together. I’ll be maid of honor in your wedding and you’ll be co-maid with my sister but only cause she’d disown me if I didn’t let her. We’ll start a store selling just what we like. We’ll name our firstborn daughters after one another, and if our husbands don’t like it, tough. Lifespans being what they are, we’ll be there for each other when our men have passed, and all the friends who come to visit our assisted living condo will be dazzled by what fun we still have together. We’ll be the kind of besties who make outsiders wonder if they’ve ever known true friendship, but we won’t even notice how sad it makes them and they won’t bring it up because you and I will be so caught up in the fun, us marveling at how not-good it never was.

Dogs have such a limited lifespan to teach us about friendship and loyalty...perhaps they know we have a short span of attention.

In the Information Age, one tech year is equivalent to one person's lifetime.

I could have explained that I wanted to walk without Doofus and get some air. But it would be pretty unusual—one might even go so far as to say unheard of—for me to take a hike on a winter night when I was exhausted from boarding all day. I could also come right out and tell both of them that Nick had fallen on the slopes today and I wanted to check on him. But then Mom would suggest I take the car to his house. And then I could never pull off the charade that I just happened by his mansion while walking my dog. Besides, it was the principle of the thing—the very idea that Josh saw I wanted to walk Doofus and he was going out of his way to foil me, like a normal little brother. This made me angry. Did he want Nick to die on the floor of his bathroom from an overdose of mentholated rub? Did he want me to spend the last eighty years of my lifespan in a convent? Maybe he was mad that I was trying to sneak out of the house wearing his jeans for the third day in a row. “I am taking Doofus for another walk,” I said clearly, daring him to defy me. “That would not be good for Doofus.” Josh folded his arms. “Mom, that would not be good for Doofus.” Oh! Dragging Mom into this was low. Not to mention Doofus. “Since when is going for a walk not good for a dog?” I challenged Josh. “He’s an old dog!” Josh protested. “He’s four!” I pointed out. “That’s twenty-eight in dog years! He’s practically thirty!” “Strike!” Mom squealed amid the noise of electronic pins falling. Then she shook her game remote at both of us in turn. “I’m not stupid, you know. And I’m not as out of it as you assume. I know the two of you are really arguing about something else. It’s those jeans again, isn’t it?” She nodded to me. “I should cut them in half and give each of you a leg. Why does either of you want to wear jeans with ‘boy toy’ written across the seat anyway?” “I thought that was the fashion,” Josh said. “Grandma wears a pair of sweatpants with ‘hot mama’ written across the ass.” “That is different,” Mom hissed. “She wears them around the kitchen.” I sniffed indignantly. “I said,” I announced, “I am going for a walk with my dog. My beloved canine and I are taking a turn around our fair community. No activity could be more wholesome for a young girl and her pet. And if you have a problem with that, well! What is this world coming to? Come along, dear Doofus.” I stuck my nose in the air and stalked past them, but the effect was lost. Somewhere around “our fair community,” Mom and Josh both had lost interest and turned back to the TV. Or so I thought. But just as I was about to step outside, Josh appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and the mud room. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. I said self-righteously, “I am taking my loyal canine for a w—” “You’re going to Nick’s, aren’t you?” he whispered. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I heard you yelled at him for no reason at the half-pipe, right before he busted ass.” I swallowed. Good news traveled fast. “So?” “So, why are you going over there? Best case scenario, you make out with him again and then have another fight.” Good news about everything traveled fast.

If there is anything I can warn you about when it comes to expanding your lifespan, it's that boredom is your enemy. If you get too bored with the routine of it, the endless eating, and sleeping, and shitting and working so that you can eat, sleep and shit some more you'll do something stupid in an attempt to entertain yourself. And you'll die. Or you'll slip into depression, make the last shift and live out your days as an animal. Or you'll get bitter thinking about the past and everything you've lost and it will turn you against people. So my free advice is to always find something to love and to make you laugh. Something that will keep you in the here and now. Hounds are good at it. And they work for me.

the reality of factory farms is an integrated scheme to exploit everyone involved but those at the top—the animals are treated without mercy by underpaid employees, who in turn make an unhealthy product to be marketed to the poor, who consume and shorten their own lifespans by enjoying it.