Ginger

Our little 12-pound, power-packed, hybrid dog came to us as damaged goods from the Humane Shelter. She ran away at the sound of crinkling plastic, she jumped onto the table when we weren’t looking, she was grumpy, and she uttered deep growls at any sudden movement. Over the past seven years Ginger has healed tremendously. She has grown dense and meaty, like a giant furry bratwurst. She is somehow older than we think she should be, but maybe Ginger was born an old soul. These days she is more trusting, more affectionate, more silly, and more appreciative. But I believe one thing about her will never change: she will likely always survey the world with skepticism, keeping one eye slightly open, even when seeming at rest.

Image

(12/30 in 30, 2.5″ x 3.5″, 6.5 cm x 9.5 cm )

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