Blog a la Cart

Despite my predictions, Ursa’s X-ray showed no evil tumors or signs of arthritis. We are now $200 poorer and I have counted 5 new gray hairs on my head.

Thanks for that, Urs.

As I’d predicted initially, despite our efforts at rest and relaxation, Ursa is so bat shit crazy that even under bed rest conditions the exuberant lass hasn’t given her shoulder enough time to heal from a run in with Hanna, the ultimate basketball pick. So now, girl’s gotta deal with life in the crate. FUN TIMES! Like we needed one more enormous plastic article of dependent accessory cluttering our modest 1-story home.

I spent the past 24 hours culling my computer for pictures of Ursa during her 5 glorious years as an only child. A time where she was the center of our Universe, i.e. unbelievably spoiled.

Shit has gotten REAL for her in the past three years. Two babies and another pup. Whatever happened to the good life when she could sleep on the bed and was featured in every family photo op?

When I say this dog can never die. I mean, this dog can never die. I consider her my first child.

A parent shouldn’t outlive their children. Now, if only that applied to our canine babies.