It's never too late. You're never too old. So start all over again…

It was a lovely day at the waterfront dog park as I sunbathed with my best friend Happa, an elegant Italian Greyhound. I was appreciating the moment and thoughts of younger days were far from my mind.

"Prince Lorenzo’s dog, Bartholomew Bond, is having a very haute, week-long fund raising soirée on his yacht, The SFI," Happa said. "It will be sailing the South Pacific to celebrate the New Year on his private island. There'll even be some fund-raising for his charities, too.

"Oh, and will you be attending?" I asked.

"Of course," he quickly retorted.

After considering this for a moment, I tentatively replied, "Well … I've been invited too, but haven't RSVP'd yet."   

Happa smiled at me with his soft brown eyes and exclaimed, "Of course you should go, Gordi. You have GOT to shine! We'll make our arrangements in the morning."

I don’t like to make a big deal about it, but I used to be a top model. My perfect paws were in demand, gracing many magazine covers. But that was forever ago. Now, my eight-year-old Labrador physique, well … I had become an old girl.

It was then that I realized something could change. Something must change.

"Tell me, Happa," I asked. "How do you stay so svelte and keep your coat so full and healthy?"

"Well, I am blessed with Italian genes," he answered proudly. "And I am fortunate to have a human that brushes and spritzes me every morning. But I have not always been this posh. My hair was bristle dry with gross bald patches behind my ears, and I itched all the time in all the wrong places."

"No!" I was stunned to imagine him enduring such crimes against vanity.

"Oh yes," he continued. "I was tired all the time, my belly was mopping the floors, I was farting in downward dog, and…" Happa looked away, his eyes welling with tears. "My skin and ears smelled so bad, strangers wouldn't even hold me."

I gasped in utter disbelief, as my heart went out to Happa. I knew that feeling all too well. "But you're exquisite now," I said. "What did you do?"

Happa went on to tell me about an eating program he had switched to, after much frustration with foods that included unsavory fillers. The Pet Promise regimen had worked for a time, but because they were going out of business, Happa was in the process of switching over to the Halo menu.

"I thought Pet Promise was amazing," he said. "But I'm feeling even better since I started Halo. I didn't think life could get any better -- but it has!"

"Careful, Happa," I said, laughing out loud. "You sound like you're doing an advertisement for them! You're not even being paid to say this."

"But it's all true! I have never felt so healthy and full of energy, yet so calm and content. My human loves the way I smell; my belly doesn't rumble from gas anymore." He paused. "Gordi, you have to switch over. Do the food program with me. You'll see, by New Year's Eve, when Bartholomew has his party, we will be the belles of the ball!"

"No Happa," I said, "you will always be the belle of the ball."

Happa laughed, but I could see that his words were sincere. Plus, I could not deny that he looked fabulous.

Here I had been thinking that all of my inadequacies were unavoidable side effects of aging. Why not? I thought. Maybe there is a way to be beautiful again!

I dragged my human (well, someone had to drive) to PETCO that very night and pointed him straight to the Halo. We start the transition today. I have eight weeks until the party, but that's plenty of time to take my body back to the golden, glowing, energetic girl I once was.

***

Over the next several weeks Gordi will be blogging her personal journey as she becomes the best "old girl" she can be, healthy inside and out … And how she plans to look smashing on the beaches of the South Pacific.