Blog a la Cart

August 28

A year ago, we made the decision to bid farewell to our beloved Ursa. It was the hardest decision that James and I have ever made as a couple, and yet, simultaneously the easiest, as it was clear that our sweet Ursa needed relief. It was time to say goodbye. The following day, the vet came to our home and helped us give her the rest that she so deserved.

I have thought of her every day since her passing. 365 memories have danced through my head as I ache from her absence and remember the love and comfort that she brought to my life. While I am no longer paralyzed by the grief of her death, I miss her. I miss her so much that I can still feel the throbbing in my chest when she comes to the fore of my thoughts. I dream of her and Gladdy romping through the fields together. And while, logically, I know that those two creatures would never have co-existed, Gladden would not be a part of our family if Ursa were still with us, I can’t help but conjure these images of those I love together in the same space.

Sunny still talks about her and visits her grave. She reads her “Ursa books,” the books that we gave to her when Ursa was first diagnosed with cancer to help her understand sickness and death and life cycles. She drew me a picture of Ursa at camp this week, and I hadn’t even mentioned that it was the one year anniversary of her death. Ursa is present with all of us, however subconsciously.

And as I focus on this loss and reflect on a summer that was filled with devastation and loss and pain and fear, I am reminded of how fortunate I am to have made it through those darker days to now, a summer that has been filled with light and laughter and opportunity and magic and so very many happy memories. I should never take that kind of contentment and ease for granted. This summer has been a wonder, made all the more sweet remembering what we faced to make it to today.

But August 28th is not just the day that I made the decision to part with my Ursa and learned to say goodbye and let go, it is now the day that I sent my oldest child off to Kindergarten. The day that I was forced to loosen the reigns, however slightly, as she took one of many steps toward her own independence.

Today, my baby started Kindergarten.

August 28th has taught me many things. Above all, strength.

Gladdy and The Big Sea

A certain water dog was finally exposed to ocean swimming. While a fear of the “waves” and seaweed initially gave her pause, James carried her out into the water and showed her that it was safe and fun and SWIMMING IS THE BEST! After that, she couldn’t get enough of it. Here’s to another ocean-loving Ulmer-Cart!

Gladdy is One

Happy first birthday to this ridiculous canine.

She adds just the right touch of laughter and comfort to this family of ours. We are so lucky she was born just as our Ursa was getting ready to leave us. Gladden has kept that wonderful flat-coat spirit alive while bringing her own snuggly, goofy personality into the fold. And so we celebrated the day with fresh whipped cream and birthday crowns. Naturally.

Pig + Dog = LOVE

While I was in Sweden, Gladdy and Penny became BFFs. And we all died from cute overload. I’m posting from the afterlife.

Gladdy’s First Swim

Yes, I am documenting slash borderline memorializing our dog’s inaugural swim. If you’ve ever owned a water dog, you’d understand. And the rest of you, well I saw your eyeballs hit the back of your heads with that roll. I’m on to you!

Gladdy is nearly a year old, but this past weekend was her first opportunity to really learn to swim in an open and deep body of water. While we have ponds and streams near our house in which she’s delighted flopping, and she drinks water by standing with both front paws in the bowl and submerging her face, we had yet to see her put those webbed feet to proper use.

It took about 24 hours for her to get comfortable with the idea of having her feet not touching the ground. While she proved that she COULD swim, it wasn’t until day 2 when we brought one of James’ parents’ Black Labs down to the lake that she finally understood the joy of the life aquatic. While she’s still hesitant to jump off the dock, I have no doubt that by Labor Day, she’ll be staging her own version of Ursa’s Super Dog Dives.

And oh my goodness, I love how excited our entire family, especially the girls, were by her growing water confidence. Just listen to Sunny and Kaki’s exclamations!

Doggie Thoughts with Hanna

So, I know you’re excited the sun is out and you’ve brought down the pig and want to do a little photo sesh – #canineandtheswine – but I’m less than thrilled. In case you haven’t noticed, I have enough of a self image problem with this Elizabethan collar strapped ’round my neck, and while I appreciate that I now have super doggie hearing for all things directly in front of me, I really am not comfortable posing for your amusement at the expense of my self-dignity… not that self-image is a concern of yours given that you’re a human who wears Crocks.

Let’s be sensible here. You can’t seriously expect me to pose with a pig and a 9 month old puppy? It’s not civilized! I’m a grown bitch! I simply won’t let you force such disgrace.

Fine. Fuck you. But I’m feeding your Crocks to the pig.

(Many thanks to James for his superb canine translation. In exciting and semi-related news, Hanna’s stitches are out, which means no more Cone of Shame! She’s recovering beautifully, though we still have six weeks left of restricted play and exercise. The best news of all is that we can finally give her a much much needed bath. I’m sure she’d have comparable thoughts to the above for this news, but man, she really does stink.)

Hanna and The ACL

Last week, our Hanna Banana had a long-awaited surgery on her rear-left ACL. Back in the fall, she’d torn the ligament, and had been limping ever since. Despite no change in spirit (she’s as googley-eyed and slobbery and wiggly as ever), the limp slowed her down and we knew that we needed to get it fixed. We tried acupuncture and herbal supplements and rest with no success, so finally caved and footed the multi-thousand dollar bill for proper surgery. Life has been complicated by the recovery. She’s got another week left in the cone of shame, which she bangs and knocks into everything (including our heels) to show her displeasure, and then another six weeks of quiet and rest and quarantine from play with Gladdy. She, of course, is eager to run and play despite the gapping wound on her leg, which is heartening, but difficult to manage. How does one explain to a canine that while she may feel awesome and in tip top shape that she must rest and recover to maintain that feeling of awesome?

We have her gated off in one part of the house, and the kids spend plenty of time visiting with her and loving her up. As you can see, Sunny even brings the chicks over for a visit from time to time. James has taken to carrying her up the stairs to our bedroom every evening so that she can sleep by our bed as she always has, and then lugs her down the stairs every morning. While life chez Cart feels rather frazzled with the dogs and baby chicks and exploding indoor garden (I need it to be June 1st so we can finally (safely) garden outside sans frost), we’re chugging along. We had a lovely visit with friends, despite 5am wake ups and a toddler who prefers 10pm bedtimes, but things may be a tad quiet here as my work life kicks into high gear for my biggest event of the year and life around the farm buzzes on. As always, I post regularly to Instagram and Facebook for daily snapshots.

The Sunny Side // 24

“When Ursa died, you buried her in the ground, and now she’s the grass. The green grass is Ursa and it’s raining rainbows, and there are rainbow hearts and rainbow flowers and even a real rainbow to make her happy, the way that she made me happy.”

(And I’m sobbing. This kid’s heart… we don’t know what we did to deserve her. I’m having this one framed to hang forever and ever and eternity. Like our love for Ursa.)

Not So Much a Puppy

Yesterday was rather ranty on the blog, so today I give you a photo of a-not-so-much-puppy-turned-dog that makes our family so unbelievably happy. We hope that she too puts a smile on your face. Happy weekend, friends!

Kimmy & Gladdy

It’s been incredibly meaningful to watch Kimmy connect with our Gladdy Goose, as Kimmy was one of Ursa’s favorite humans in all the world, and it would seem that she is quickly becoming one of Gladden’s. No surprises there. Kimmy visited for an all-too-brief 48 hours last week before jetting to Bermuda for her spring break. Ya know, James is Bermudian, and yet I’ve only ever been to the island twice. Kimmy has found her way there four times. Not that I’m keeping track, JAMES.

Anyway! We returned from 10 days away to a nearly adult-sized dog with the spirit of a puppy still in full force. She’s in that gangly, awkward, glorious adolescent phase of lanky limbs and a total lack of bodily awareness. Her feathers are just starting to come in, so we’re getting a glimpse of the stunning animal that shall be when truly full grown.

She and Hanna shared a run at the vet’s office while we were away. And apparently they slept piled right on top of each other every night. While they’ll share a dog bed, or curl up on the floor side by side at home, they rarely pig pile. We were relieved to hear that they provided one another not only entertainment but companionship while we were away.

Gladden continues to grow into an ever more delightful creature. So cuddly. And sweet. And dang endearing. If you stop moving for more than 10 seconds, she’ll instantly turn your foot or lap into a pillow. I’ve never lived with a dog so snuggly, and I can’t say I mind it one bit (save for perhaps in the wee hours of the morning when we’re battling for room on the bed.)

We were devastated to learn right before our trip to Florida that Gladden’s mother, who had only just turned five year old, had died suddenly due to cancer. Unlike with Ursa, there were no clear signs until it was far too late, and despite the breeder’s best efforts, Gabby died on the table during surgery. And, only a month before that, Gladden’s father had also died in a similar fashion from cancer (at age 10). This is scary (although perhaps not completely unexpected) news given what we went through with Ursa. In deciding to get another Flat Coat, we sought out a breeder who was focused on health and longevity above show standards and aesthetics. But, there are no guarantees, and while this doesn’t ensure that Gladden will get cancer, we are acutely aware that that road may once again be in our (perhaps not too distant) future. We are so desperately smitten with Flat Coats that James and I have accepted that cancer and all its ugliness is a very real consequence of this breed, and we will continue to work diligently with the Flat Coat community to do what we can to avoid it and create a healthier breed. If you or a family member has allergies, it’s important to find out the dog breeds that won’t trigger allergies before bringing a new pet into your home.

Ursa has been on my mind a great deal, likely because of this news. And I’ve found myself daily aching for her presence. People claim that time heals all wounds, and that is complete and total bullshit. While the pain and absence may not be as acute or all-consuming, it is just as deep and palpable. I will mourn the loss of that dog for the rest of my life. And that’s not intended to be histrionic, but a truth about death and grief. People find their own ways to manage it, but it never really goes away. Not ever.

I’m grateful for the love that I’ve found in Gladdy, but it will never heal the space in my heart for Ursa.

The more you let love in, the more you have to lose. And yet, it’s worth it. Every time.