Ester's Feathers

Ain't no why, so don't ask.

This morning found me far less sanguine about the whole situation as I opened up Lulu's door (she sleeps in my studio, on her own twin bed, after several years of sleeping with the canine equivalent of a snory, stinky old man finally got to me) and she bounded out, freed of her adult diaper and bleeding dark and steady. I stopped to brush my teeth before wrestling another diaper onto her and off we went, to the vet, where we spent the next two hours in a small room which looked as if a massacre had occurred after we left. So, it's cancer, and it's galloping. We left loaded down with things to rehydrate her and clear the infection she now has and a bunch of other shit and on Thursday, rather than surgery, they're going to take x-rays to gauge it's progress and it's very likely, it seems to me, that all those things I've said I'd do when she was gone - like throw out the stinky dog chair - will probably happen sooner rather than later. Again, it's sort of a blessing that I have this time off and extra resources, but why these things always seem to pile on - well, there is no why. So don't ask.