Peter and the Wolf?

This shot is a clip of a larger photo, so if you have really great resolution on your screen, it might look awful.

If you look closely, you can see the left side of her muzzle looks a bit puffier than the right side, but this is nothing compared to what it looked like two days ago. It seems to be worse in the mornings, maybe because she sleeps on it? I have no idea.

I also have no idea what her deal is, or was, but the damn dog seems to be just fine. Yes, she is old, yes, she has cancer, yes, her tumor is growing. And whatever was wrong with her the last two days (Thurs and Fri) appears to be gone. She seems as nimble as her attitude will allow, and today it seemed to allow quite a bit! Is it really possible this damn dog is going to be 14 in 7 days? In this photo, she is waiting for me to come from the garage into the yard and play with her. Well, really, she is waiting to see if we are going to go somewhere in the car, and if not, then the play in the yard is her second choice.

I am grateful she seems so much better. And yet, I am a bit angry, too. I am angry for feeling such a huge swing of emotions, from the pain of losing her to the simple joy of seeing her rise from her bed under her own power. I am angry because I feel like I've cried wolf. I thought she was on her death bed, and now I don't. I'll bet this is normal, and when she is gone I'll feel badly I ever had a cross word with her.

I am unclear how to explain this. I am happy to have her functioning. Shoot, I am happy to have her at all. And yet, I am also angry. That damn dog, I think, every time someone asks me how she is doing. Now what do I say? I guess, truthfully, she is having good days, and bad days, just like Jenny said she might.

Today was a great day. It was warm, sunny, and Everett seemed to feel better and better. Her breath still smells; her licks leave the same fetid odor on everything they touch. But her spirits are up, she's alert to her surroundings; she even had some barks for the mailman and a small tussle with Ansel over who knows what.

That damn dog. I shake my head at her. She's so cute. Smelly, but cute. I am so lucky to have her.