I work as a photographer five days a week, and when I’m not working, I play with photography.
This is my dog Isis. She was a little younger when I tested out some new remotes by setting up a camera and a few strobes in the living room, then holding up her Frisbee and whispering, “playtime!” Isis turns 13 years old this year, which, depending on who you ask, makes her around 79 in people years. She is a Portuguese water dog, a hard-working breed that needs to be both mentally and physically active to stay out of trouble.
When I watch my 79-year-old dog chasing Frisbee throws, I see she doesn’t care about her age. Isis lives for fun and doesn’t know any other way to be.
I know one day Isis will be gone but how great would it be if her final act included tackling that Frisbee while racing across a field.
At 55, I’m looking back over the crested hill. My life is probably shorter before me than behind, but that’s certainly nothing to dwell on. Things change, and who’s to say 55 isn’t just a halfway point in a very long life? After all, that’s only 24 in dog years.
In memory of Jyoti Hansa 1934-2014
Copyright 2014 / Kris Craig / Providence Journal