Let me tell you, fair blogosphere, one of the worst things in the world. Your beloved dog walks right up to you and has a giant seizure. It was so bad that he got his canine tooth caught on the couch cushion, and I was trying hard to get him down to the floor before tearing off across the house to get to his Valium syringe from the last time he had trouble like this.
That was in January of last year, and we haven’t seen him have a seizure at all since then. He was done seizing by the time I rummaged through the drawer and got back downstairs, but I gave him the drug anyway to make sure his muscles stayed relaxed.
A few minutes later he popped right back up ready to be loved, and eventually he needed to go outside. Right around this time the Valium is in full force, and the dog spots a rabbit. He takes off in a wobbly, half-assed but still determined run, circling the tree a few times while the rabbit takes off in the opposite direction. Teddy was sure that he heard it go under the shed, so he sniffed around there for a bit before I coaxed him back indoors.
As scary as a seizure is, it certainly is entertaining to see your high dog try to chase a rabbit.
Tasha and I have decided that if he has another seizure tonight we’ll take him into the emergency veterinary clinic, but barring that we will just make him a vet appointment for tomorrow to get him checked out. He’s sleeping it off in his usual position right by his water bowl now, I’m going to go give him a few scratches before heading upstairs for the night.
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