The Deer Hunters

I’m sure I told you about my dog, Ursa, who was diagnosed mid-March with melanoma. The first vet told me she could live only 3 months. After surgery at the U of I, I was told me she could live (maybe) up to 8 months if she had radiation and chemotherapy. [That would be about $1,000 a month – if she lived 8 months. I don’t like what radiation does to people and I didn’t think I wanted Ursa to go through all those bad days.]

Each time we see our local vet, he asks about her appetite and energy level. He must have thought she was doing well because, in May, he decided to give her the annual shots we had, earlier, determined were a waste of time and money. “If she keeps plugging along, we don’t want her dying from something we can prevent,” he told me. Her appetite has changed but it's hard to be concerned when none of the dogs is eating every morning. Her energy level is another thing entirely.



Monday morning - [18 July 2005]
The dogs and I have returned from our run. This morning, it was a run. The crews were oiling the roads between me and the park so I took the dogs [Ursa and Mika] to a large cemetery. I didn't want my shoulder jerked around so I tied the leashes together and let them trot alone for a while. The idea was that, when they'd tired a bit, Ursa wouldn't be so prone to yank me around. That first half mile is always hard on my shoulder.

We'd walked to the back of the cemetery when I saw a rabbit. I told “the girls” about the bunny but they saw only the tail bouncing into the brush. Too late to decide on a chase. They saw the next one and were on the chase. I whistled and called them back to me and was within feet of grabbing the leashes when, suddenly, a doe appeared behind them. She watched. Before they looked in her direction, they stiffened and she bounded away, the dogs, immediately, on her heels. When the dogs did a "bread and butter" trick around a permanent vase, Mika was suddenly jerked off her feet. Ursa sped on, hardly missing a step and Mika pounded after her. I hurried to the top of the rise, commanding their return but they didn't even break stride.

I don't know how the chase ended. Did the doe jump a high fence? I only know that the dogs, finally, returned. Once again, I almost had hold of the leashes [Mika's very short, now] when the doe appeared again. I had thought the doe was trying to lure the dogs away from something the first time. As we were in quite another place now, that could hardly be her motive this time. Again, she waited for the startle and shot across the field, the dogs speeding after her. I chased the action, yelling commands and was, again, ignored by all. This time, I was frantic and angry. The dogs wouldn’t come; I couldn’t catch them; and we were near the edge of the park. Anything could happen now. If the doe jumped the fence, she could cause harm to herself and others in traffic. If she didn’t jump the fence, she could, certainly hurt the dogs.

So, there I was, lumbering along screaming and, finally, cussing with voice at full power. As it echoed from one hill to the other, I was shocked into silence. I forgot about the dogs for one moment, so relieved that no one was witness to the full volume jeremiad which soon turned into a shrieking banshee demanding an immediate return of something. [Some one? A revenant?]

At last the dogs returned. They had been outrun again. This time, I got hold of the leashes, knotted Mika's and walked them [or did they drag me?] back to the car. The water dish was on the deck and Ursa nosed it with interest. I got the water and brought it to the deck where Ursa drank her fill and, true to her own likes, Mika would have none. When I saw the doe watching us, I dumped the water and closed the hatch. As I drove toward her, the doe loped across the road before me. Then, she stopped and looked back at us. She repeated this behavior twice more. As we left her, she seemed disappointed that she'd lost her playmates. I wonder if she exercises a lot of dogs.

The dogs have been out and fed and out again and Ursa has come to lie beside me. When she decided to nuzzle for a petting, her collar fell off. As I put it back together, I noticed that the rings on the ends of the chain were flattened. While holding the ring with pliers, pounding each ring into its previously circular shape, all I could think was, "Oh, my aching neck!" Imagine the impact on those little doggie necks when they broke the leash and reshaped those steel rings!

Ursa's doctor is amazed at her condition. I have advised him that his wonder drug has had some backup. A neighbor and her 12-year-old son laid hands on Ursa and prayed for her, then anointed her with oil and prayed again.

Published as Doe wins the race
Prairie talk Herald & Review (Decatur, IL) [Page: D4]

Date: October 25, 2005