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Kimmy, Doda, James and I are about to join the ranks of the I Am Williams project. Spilling some more purple blood out in the world. See also: Eph love.

After a five hour car ride home from the Poconos (a trip that under normal circumstances takes no more than three hours, even with needy dependents) due to a super mutt with the runs and a tripawd with a bloody front leg, her ONLY front leg, mind you, I’m still in recovery mode and shall share pretty pictures and stories at a later date. This is the most extensive post I can muster.

Man, I wish I had Ursa’s sense of preservation and resilience, as she thought nothing of launching her three-legged, injured, cancerous self out of the way back of our station wagon and in between the girls’ car seats as Hanna began erupting, from both ends. That dog has a strong survival instinct, friends. She glared at us all, “Oh heeeell no! No way am I getting barfed AND shat on.”

Now if only James and I could attain such a state of existence.