The Canine Complexity, Part 2

Remember this guy?


He had a seizure late Tuesday night and I brought him to the animal hospital. I was told he could have had a number of issues, some of which involved:

* Possible poisoning (Nope. We have very few toxins which are kept above the washer and dryer and also under the kitchen sink. We have bug spray in the garage but they’re in spray form. We don’t have rat poison; we have cats.)
* Brain tumor (Can’t rule that out but don’t have several grand laying around.)
* Possible epilepsy

We were sent home and given the warning of no more than three seizures in a 24-hour period (Holy moly! No more seizures!) or any seizure that lasted more than five minutes. How would I be able to carry a 70-lb dog having an awful seizure into my car by myself?

I told the kids about what happened to Buddy, about how Uncle J had come over in the middle of the night to stay with them while the slept, about what a seizure would look like and what they should do in case of one.

They needed to go upstairs as soon as possilbe and close the gate. I did not want them anywhere near the dog during the seizure because I knew they would try to comfort him and Buddy might accidentally bite them. I did not want them anywhere near the dog after the seizure because who knows what Buddy would be like when he was recovering from his seizure.

Everything was fine until later that evening.

We were watching a Christmas movie when I noticed Buddy started looking around the room frantically. He got up off the couch where he was sitting next to me and walked toward the front door.

He started to have a seizure. I told the kids to run upstairs and heard the middle daughter burst into tears.

I talked Buddy through the seizure and he recovered, taking less time than the night before. I called the vet and they said to bring him in.

I called my brother once again and right before he arrived, Buddy started acting weird again and had another seizure.

I rushed him to the vet and they said his vitals were fine. They gave me some medicine to administer when I got home.

I did and don’t ask me why I did this but I put him in his crate. I thought he needed time to himself, time away from the little dog.

Then he had his fourth seizure. I was hysterical. His teeth were wrapped around the bars of his crate. He was crying. I called the vet and cried.

“I think I killed my dog!” I shouted. No sooner than I said that that Buddy recovered.

“You didn’t kill your dog,” they said. “But bring him in now.”

I did and they said they’d keep for two nights for observation because it was after midnight. They would count it in terms of fees as one night, thank goodness. They would monitor his seizures and stabilize him.

As I left the building I heard a dog cry and I knew it was him.

Later that morning they called to say he had a seizure immediately after I left. They gave him an injection and he had another seizure after that.

I called my husband to apologize for having so many pets, for Buddy’s bills. I couldn’t understand what was wrong with our dog. If he had that many seizures, wasn’t there something wrong with him? Even more than the possibility of epilepsy? Could he have a brain tumor or hemmoraging, something we couldn’t afford to find?

I had pets because they somehow healed me. I couldn’t understand why I had to heal them. I was already allowing my mind to think about the possibility of having to make the painful decision of euthanizing the dog.

Then my husband, who hates the cats (because they throw up everywhere) and disliked Buddy when he was a puppy (because he tore up the carpet), said, “Maybe it will pass. Maybe it’s just temporary. Maybe he’ll get better.”

That’s love right there.

Someone who loves you, and even though he hates the pets, will still have hope that these furballs will stay alive and healthy for a very long time just to see you happy. Someone who says after every pet, “NO MORE PETS” but still agrees to a puppy for the kids and a long-term puppy-sitting-job-for-family-turned-permanent chihuahua each time.

Just when I thought the worst of this situation, my husband helps me see hope and optimism, never contemplating the worst and never even hinting at the possibillity of putting the dog to sleep.

I continue to give the dog medicine twice a day which he happily ingests with a tablespoon of peanut butter each time. The dog has an appointment to check his levels of something or other to make sure his treatment is ont he right track. His seizures won’t stop completely but eventually they hope to have them down to only one a month.

I hope for good news for The Canine Complexity, Part 3.

M fell asleep early for the first time in a few days. The boy was so upset, didn’t feel like eating, and didn’t even want to talk to Daddy on the phone! Both dog and boy are much better now.

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