I spent a lot of time talking houses with Lana and Ann at the office. They're both getting ready to take advantage of depressed real estate prices.

When Ann had to run some errands, Lana came it to sit down and tell me what she's planning to do. She wanted support and advice, and I'm so flattered by that. At 23, she still has a lot to learn. But I give her credit for being very smart and very practical - unlike many people her age. Her father is a first-generation immigrant who worked hard to earn success, and he's instilled in her some very strong values.

I found myself thinking how interesting it is that she knows me only as Kay and treats me as she would any older woman my age with whom she became friends. With Ann, it's more a matter of just being nice. She's kind enough to recognize and accept the role I have chosen to assume. But Lana, who is twenty years younger than Ann, has gone beyond that and bonded with my feminine side.

For the most part, I think, the office is a quiet and lonely place. At best, there are two people there most of the day. Often, because of Ann's community outreach duties, Lana's there alone. She likes having the chance to talk at length to someone who - despite the vast generational gulf - has many of the same cultural touchstones. Our computer knowledge is about equal, but we've been able to teach each other a few things. And, she got me watching "American Idol" again.

I have two granddaughters - now twenty-four and eighteen years old - and I've treasured the close, supportive relationship I've had with them as they've grown up. They don't know why I'm so understanding, although their mother now does.

Yesterday, a woman who has a one-person office across the hall stopped by. I hadn't seen her for months, and she walked up to my desk and said, "Hey, gorgeous!"

It made this old bat's day.

How could I drop out for that long? I love writing this blog, and if nothing's going on I should make stuff up.

Since I last put finger to key, I've worked another pleasant but altogether unremarkable day at the office. I'll be there again this Friday. Four or five hours a week, while not a lot of time, is a very nice interlude.

Dog owners (and you know who you are)...I have no reservations about recommending Flexicose. I started giving it to George and Daisy, our other Dane, about two weeks ago. The testimonials did not exaggerate. George has gone from lying around all day and having problems getting to his feet to standing up with little difficulty and going outside when he thinks it's time. No coaxing is needed. But he really surprised me last night. He got up, came to the living room, backed up to the sofa where I was watching an NBA playoff game and sat there with me for most of the fourth quarter.

Flexicose won't slow the effects of the cancer, but they will give him a quality of life in the meantime that he would not otherwise enjoy. If you have an older dog, I encourage you to research the product. It's not very expensive, and it's a liquid you can pour on food. George's veterinarian approves its use.

There really isn't much happening, otherwise. We've become ambivalent about selling the house. We want to, but we don't like constantly being on edge waiting for someone to show some interest. And, my business partner's still working hard to buy me out, but it's taking more time than my limited patience can handle. So I try to tune it out.

Considering the introduction to this post, I suppose I should assure you now that none of the above was fabricated. I promise.

Georgie Porgie. G-Dog. Silly nicknames, but we're silly people. All our pets have them.

He's holding his own. Oddly, the limp that started all this seems somewhat less pronounced. We're giving him medication for pain, but we have no way of knowing how much he may be hurting. Thankfully, he shows no outward signs yet of discomfort. The only time he whimpers a bit is when he tries to get his back legs under him to stand up. After he's on his feet, he's fine.

After consulting with his doctor, I started giving him Flexicose. It's a human-strength dosage of glucosamine in liquid form that goes straight to the joints to provide strength and, to an extent, reverse damage that may have occurred. Reports I've read say it takes about two weeks to produce visible results, and we're about halfway there. The hip problem may or may not have anything to do with his bone cancer, but it's worth trying to give him some relief. Even if we can make it easier for him to get into position to defecate or to lie down, his quality of life will improve a bit.

I've come to terms with my grief, for the most part, and realize that the best thing I can do for George is to act as if nothing is amiss and continue to make his life as happy as possible under the circumstances. We can't forestall what will happen, but that's no reason not to make the most of whatever time we have left.

Those of us fortunate enough to find ourselves embedded deeply in the heart of another human know there is nothing more fulfilling. We all seek, on some level, to be loved. But a committed relationship - one in which the parties create something greater than the sum of their egos - is, I believe, the apotheosis of our existence. It is not about us. It is about, by our being, enhancing the lives of others.

The person to whom I sometimes refer as "my long-suffering spouse" is, simply, the best thing ever to happen to me. We are far from perfect as people, but as a couple we are golden. There are no lessons to be taught here, no rules to be related, no how-to book to be written. It just works. In the twenty-three years we have known each other, we've never had a fight. We have argued. Different genders, eighteen-year age gap, two diverse upbringings...we are not always of the same mind. On matters of true importance, though, we think as one. And, above all, we respect, love and appreciate each other.

Sensing the stress I'm feeling as I try to guide us through some life-changing events, she devoted last night to relaxing me. A bath, with candles and music...a hot rock and oil massage...a bottle of nice tawny port...being together and talking softly of things past, present and future. Such a thoughtful gesture, from one who would say that she doesn't do enough.

Just accepting my transgender status makes her a shoo-in for the Wives' Hall Of Fame. Anything else is gravy. So how am I to understand why she gently makes it known that wherever this leads will be fine with her? She's not convinced that my journey is over - that I'll be satisfied to live life on the fence between male and female. If I thought I needed more, I would tell her. She accepts that response for the present but thinks I could yet go through changes I can't foresee. And she assures me of her commitment to be there with me no matter what.

It seems trite to say I don't deserve her. She says the same of me. Is there something within us both that says we're not worthy of this?

People - good, decent people - strive all their lives just to be loved without condition by another. What a wonderful thing it is.

I am so very grateful.

Shortly after I arrived at the office this morning, Ann said she had an urge for some Mexican food. Then she suggested that we all go to a "hole in the wall" she discovered and really liked. She said the atmosphere was pretty bad but the food was good.

The way she put it was, "Kay, you wouldn't go out to lunch with us, would you?". I thought for a millisecond and said, "Sure. I'd love to." Then, I spent the next two hours fighting the "what ifs" that precede any of my rare ventures into public.

Since I'd have the support of both Ann and Lana, though, and since it was just a little, out-of-the-way restaurant, I thought, "Why not?".

We all got into Ann's car, and she kept driving farther from the office. I couldn't imagine where we might be going, as she was heading for a busier area not likely to be home to the back-alley, cavelike establishment I had pictured.

Sure enough, she pulled into the parking lot of the most popular Mexican restaurant in this part of town - one that I've visited many times but not recently. And it was packed with customers.

It was too late to back out, so I resolved to act as if nothing was amiss and just enjoy lunch with my friends.

You may have noticed that the world did not come to an end. In fact, I saw nothing out of the ordinary - no stares, no pointing, no rushing for the exit. I didn't look around, and we were talking so much that I felt quite at ease.

Person goes to lunch. Person eats. Person enjoys. Not exactly newsworthy, is it?

But it's a big step. I'm so flattered that these two friends think nothing of inviting me to do things with them. And they never, ever make reference to my transgendered status - not even in a joking way. They involve me in conversation as they would anyone else, so I fall naturally into the pattern of just being myself in what is essentially a very scary situation.