I initially began writing columns my junior year of high school. I was a faux self-help columnist with a penchant for mocking angst-be-gone woes. By the time my career ended my senior year, with the autobiographical A Matt’s Something You Walk On, I did a thank-you to all of the people who had gotten me through high school and taught me about life.

Becoming a part of The Fine Print family has been the most rewarding part of my college experience. But the best part of a column is its voice, and the best part of The Fine Print is the diversity of voices. So without further ado, adieu. I end with an ode to my college experience and the 20-nothing:

When I first met Grace, I was surprised by her beauty and vibrancy. For an old gal who had been living in a shelter for more than five years, her giant brown and black fur coat was extremely well-maintained, and her liquid amber eyes were full of life and unconditional love for anyone willing to take a walk with her. In fact, Grace is an eight-year-old Chow mix who has spent more than half of her life in the Alachua County Humane Society.

Grace enjoys being around people: all of the shelter’s employees are enamored with her, and she is great with kids. But she isn’t a young dog. And the older she gets, the more likely it is that she will spend the remainder of her life in the Humane Society’s shelter. Unfortunately for Grace, she has other factors going against her adoption. She doesn’t like to live with other dogs or cats and her breed, Chow, is sometimes banned from neighborhoods and apartment complexes. She was adopted once, for about a year, but her owner was transferred and couldn’t take her.

I met Grace at the biannual Adoptathon at the Oaks Mall.