A Sad Story

I woke up early Monday morning. The sun hadn't yet made its appearance. My precious dog, Tiny, was making weird noises. I couldn't place the sounds. Was he having a dream? It sounded too frantic for a typical dog dream. Then I heard liquid hitting the tile floor. Suddenly I was wide awake. I quickly turned on the light so I could witness my puppy writhing around on the floor. I'm not sure how long this had gone on before I woke up, but I saw enough. He was foaming at the mouth. He was kicking so frantically that he was slowly spinning himself in a circle. He lost all control over his bladder and, later, his bowels. I grabbed my phone and called my mom who was sleeping in her bedroom on the other side of the house. She didn't answer. She keeps her phone on silent at night. I had no choice. I had to wait for Tiny to stop thrashing. I knelt down. I called his name. I stroked his head. I was so scared.


After what was probably only 90 seconds, he started to slow his movements. He wasn't responsive, but he was breathing. I sprinted to my mom's room and woke her up. Together we tried to clean up the mess. Mom called my dad at work. He didn't answer. He should have already been home, but he was working late that morning. We were on our own. I went through countless paper towels. Tiny was filthy and the room smelled awful. After a few more minutes, he started to become more aware. He perked up more with every minute that passed. By the time my dad got home, Tiny was pretty much back to normal.


I called my vet as soon as they opened at 7:30am. I told the woman who answered what happened and she assured me the vet would call me back. He returned my call around 9 and told me it could have been an isolated incident and not to worry. If it happened again, I should call him.


For the next hour, everything was normal. My brother, who happened to be in town, woke up and we filled him in on our exciting morning. I had convinced myself that it was a fluke, that everything was OK. That's when it happened again.


This time he collapsed while walking near the front door. I can't describe what 160 pounds sounds like when it meets hard wood floor. He kicked wildly. His bladder failed him again. My mom screamed for my dad. I frantically called the vet. I kept getting a busy signal. I couldn't help but cry.


One seizure might be a one time thing. Two seizures means something is wrong.


I finally got through to the vet. We got an appointment at 11:30 thanks to a cancellation. We cleaned up again. I threw on clothes and sat with my poor puppy as the hour until our appointment passed.


My dad and I got him into the truck and drove the mile to the vet. Tiny's heart sounded fine. Blood was drawn and a sedative was given. He got really woozy and needed help getting back in the truck. I left $162 poorer and with the promise of a phone call with blood test results.


Tiny came back and slept. My phone rang 90 minutes later. His blood work was normal. By process of elimination Tiny was diagnosed with epilepsy. My beautiful, gentle giant is sick. His prescription was called into a human pharmacy. This medication may solve his problem completely. It may not. It takes weeks to build up in his system so he could have another seizure. Once the medicine is in his system, he still may have milder seizures.


Now we all walk around nervous all the time. I haven't left the house since his appointment at the vet on Monday. No one wants to leave him along. We've faithfully given him his pills twice a day. The side affects: rear-end weakness, wooziness, and excessive thirst & hunger. He has them all. His back legs won't always do what he wants. I get so nervous when he's out back and gets too close to the pool's edge. He slides around on the tile floors more than usual. The weakness should go away after a few weeks. The excessive thirst and hunger may stick around. He has to take 4 pills every day for the rest of his life.


I was supposed to go back to LA on Friday. It's now pushed to Sunday and that's only if I feel Tiny can make the trip. Brian's been a trooper about the whole thing. Initially he told me to stay here. I think he'd still support that decision. Perhaps I'd entertain it if Brian wasn't leaving in just over 2 months. We have so much to do in LA. When I let myself think about it I get wholly overwhelmed.


We really didn't need this right now. Why did this happen to my precious puppy?


I'm sorry this was so long. I didn't really want to write it, but one day I may want to remember what happened on that sad, scary day.