1 . We recently went to a friend’s backyard to meet her new puppy. He was lovely beyond words. Our friend was wearing smiles as she told us about his first days at home. It was truly puppy love.

Later that night, I walked behind my own dog to help her climb up the stairs, and heated up the homemade food that helps control her kidney (肾) disease. You can’t imagine these extra cares when you began raising a puppy. For me, I am lucky to know this more “mature” love. To love, and to be loved, by an old dog is truly an honor.

For a long time, I denied the fact that our dog was getting old, or I really didn’t notice that Skyler was getting older. But these days, there is no denying the fact. Sometimes, she will fall while eating from her bowl and wait patiently for someone to help her up.

I still remember the first days of Skyler. In the home, she always needed to be beside someone, with at least one part of her touching one part of you. At the park, it was different. If we started running toward the end of a field, she would cross the finish line before we had even made it halfway.

Now, at 15, Skyler still needs to be right beside you on the couch. But it is hard. It is sad to see this once fast, strong dog struggle to walk up the front steps or to see her begging eyes whenever she needs help to get up on the couch. Over the past few years, we have had to forgo certain family trips because we wanted to take care of her at home.

However, I know this experience has taught our children about sacrifice and unconditional love. It has taught me the same. Dogs give us unconditional love. The least we can do is give it back. There will likely be times of great sadness and hardship, but in the end, you will feel very lucky for the time you have together.

2 . Two enterprising graduates are selling advertising space on their faces to pay off a combined student debt of almost ￡50,000. Faced with a challenging job market, former Cambridge students Ed Moyse and Ross Harper are painting different company logos on to their faces.

Anyone can buy the advertising space, from businesses to individuals or groups, on a day-to-day basis. The logos — which can be viewed at www.buymyface.co.uk — are then seen by everyone they pass as they go about their daily business.

The graduates, who met on their first day at Selwyn College, Cambridge, started the business on October 1 and said they made ￡3,500 in the first 10 days. The boys said they are “armed only with massive student debt and a firm grasp of the principles of viral advertising” as they attempt to survive for a year merely on income earned by transforming themselves into walking advertisements.

Mr. Harper, 21, from Greenwich, south London, who studied neuroscience, said, “It’s our untraditional way of paying off our student debt. The graduate job market is incredibly unfriendly, and so we thought we’d try and go through it altogether. We’ve seen so many students unsuccessfully applying for jobs, only to eventually settle in a career that they never really wanted. It’s just something a bit different and has taken off quite nicely.”

Mr. Moyse, 22, from Poole, Dorset, said, “It is well beyond our expectations, but we always knew it had value and is novel and crazy.”

“So far, one of the main contributors has been online betting agency, Paddy Power,” Mr. Harper said.

Mr. Moyse, who studied economics, and Mr. Harper came up with the idea after graduating in the summer as a scheme that would not require much investment.

3 . Page, my younger brother by four years, has been brain­damaged from birth. He does not speak, cannot hear and see poorly through his remaining eye. He stays home, staring at the television happily. But it wasn’t always this way.

On a lot summer morning, Mum had penciled “VISIT GRANDMA” for Page in large letters on a napkin before we left for the nursing home. No one expected to understand that this might be our last visit.

We arrived there and stepped into her room. The strokes had left grandma trembling and unresponsive. Her mouth hung open, and her wide eyes shut and opened quickly and stared but appeared not to see.

We stood round the bed, smiling uncomfortably, and saying that everything would be all right. For the first time, I was free to talk all I wanted.     1     “We love you, grandma,” I said finally, wondering if I was reaching her.

Page was standing quietly next to the window with his face brilliant red, tears following from his eyes. Just then, he pushed through the group and made his way to the bed. He leaned over Grandma’s withered body and took her cheeks gently in his hands.     2    

Those of us with healthy ears were deaf to the volumes being spoken in that wonderful, wordless exchange.

    3     How wrong I had been about Page. Far better than the rest of us, he knew the true meaning of our visit. He knew it perfectly because he grasped it not with his head but with his heart. He had the freedom, courage and honesty to reach out in pain to grandma. This was love.

We kissed Grandma, and slowly walked out of the room one by one. I was the last to leave. “Bye, Grandma,” I said. As I turned to look at her one last time, I noticed her lips come together, as if she was trying to speak. Somehow, if for a moment, she gathered the strength to say goodbye.    4    

4 . For ten years, Hingorani and I have shared a wall. In all these years, we shared nothing more than that wall.

Hingorani lost her husband around eight months ago. Now, the 82-year-old former headmaster of Mumbai’s Jai Hind College lives alone in the apartment next door.

Knowing it would be difficult for her to manage things without any help, I started dropping by. When I found out that she loves meat and chicken, I went with a plate of butter chicken and kulchas. And we started to talk of course.

As we started to talk, I realized how different she was from what I had thought. And that’s where our friendship really began. I found that she related to me in a lot of ways — both of us married of our own free will, and she, too, was a working mother, We spoke about her relationship with her two sisters who live abroad and how they connect with each other every day.

Her liberal thinking, the way she raised her daughter, her love for her culture and stories of her teaching days — including how the boys at her college gave her a hard time — all made for great conversation. I never felt we were generations apart. She, too, loves my company and looks forward to my crazy stories without judgment. I tell her about the challenges I face when raising a child. A chat with her is like a warm hug at the end of a bad day.

Hingorani has become part of my daily life. I look forward to either having a cup of tea with her on her balcony or enjoying a glass of wine on a Saturday night. Our connection is pure. Our friendship is not limited by age. Instead, it is strengthened by the circumstances.