by Ashley Weeks Cart
Despite the fact that Ursa’s tumor (where her left front leg once stood) has once again split wide open, the girl is in remarkable spirits. Her appetite waned, but then we offered human food and she has ravenously consumed every meal since. She hasn’t been running as far during James’ morning hike, but that’s more than fair considering the raw flesh the size of a grapefruit oozing from her left side.
This is the third time that this has happened since the tumor returned in late May. Each time, we assume it’s heralding the end of days. But then, she proves us all wrong. The mass disappears. The skin heals. And she’s back to business as usual.
As we begin mourning and preparing for goodbye, I envision her, Monty Python-style, complete with British accent, muttering, You know, I’m not quite dead yet…
Who knows if she’ll be The Comeback Kid this time around, but while her spirits are high and she’s showing such vivacity in the face of such bloody, messy, yuckiness, we’ll focus on her attitude and do our best to ignore the physical signs that suggest otherwise.
Words cannot describe how much we adore this dog. What a gift she is.