Good Dog

It's 12:45 AM. I hear CoCo scramble around her dog bed next to me, then hear a thunk as she falls down. I look over the side of the bed and see her standing completely still, looking in to the corner. I reach down and pet her. No reaction.

I tumble out of bed and sit on the floor next to her. Pet her some more. Try to lay her down. She yelps and hops back up to a standing position. She otherwise is very very still. I start to do the instinctual "shhhhh" sounds to her. Which, I don't know why. She can't hear, anyway.

John wakes up. Is everything ok? No, something is wrong with the dog.

He turns the light on and leans over the side of the bed. Pets CoCo and does the same instinctual "shhhhh" sounds. Still nothing. We pick up all four feet. She won't move them herself. I pick her up and hug her in my arms. John looks in to her cloudy brown eyes.

I don't think she can see, he says. He waves his hand in front of her face. Nothing. Her eyes are doing weird things - kind of bulging out of her head, and moving side to side rapidly.

Should we take her to the vet? John calls the emergency hospital. Yes, they are open. Call them before we leave, if we're going to bring her. Should we bring her? I don't know. I don't know. It's silly, but part of me doesn't want to take her to the vet because I am so afraid she'll never come home.

John brings a biscuit. CoCo takes it in her mouth, but she can't chew. The biscuit falls to the floor. OK, that's it. Let's take her to the vet. Let's gather up the baby and bring him, too. John doesn't trust me to drive myself. I am sobbing and maybe can't see clearly.

I carry her downstairs and set her on the floor. She walks. She walks over to her chair and clumsily jumps up in it. Huh. OK. Maybe she's not too bad.

We get all ready to go. Pack milk for the baby. Put shoes on. I have my coat on, and go over to put CoCo's collar and leash on. She smells a rat. Gets up, goes and hides in the corner.

Now we second-guess. How bad is she? Do we need to go now, or can she wait til morning? I lay on the floor with her while John looks up "strokes in dogs." The symptoms fit. The treatment? None, really. MRI needed to find a cause. Anesthesia needed to get MRI. Old dog can't handle the anesthesia - it would probably kill her. So we can't really do anything for her anyway.

I put her outside. She pees, poops. Walks up the stairs. A bit wobbly, but not too bad. She eats a biscuit. OK, she can stay home. Let's go back to bed, old dog. You stay on the floor so you don't jump down off the bed and fall over.

In the morning, we both look over to where she is lying. Is she breathing? Is she ok? I give her a pat on the head. Still warm. Chest rises, falls. Just sleeping. When she finally stirs, she sits up, looks at me groggily, stretches and rises. Takes one unbalanced little stagger. Stops, rights herself. Then shuffles off in her usual "it's early and my body isn't warmed up yet" walk. She makes it down the stairs by herself. She eats her biscuit. She's a little wobbly, perhaps, but otherwise fine.

I call the vet. Her usual super-vet doesn't work on Mondays. The office I've been to before is full. Try their Edgewood office, they say. John says be careful in Edgewood. Don't get shot. Edgewood has an opening we can make if we leave the house RIGHTNOW. Change clothes, gather up dog and baby, and off we go, flying down Rt 40.

Dr. Jacobs listens to her history and to her episode last night. She's 18? Yes. Really? Dr. Jacobs can't believe it. She listens to her heart. Fine. Takes her blood pressure. Perfectly normal. CoCo is wandering around the vet's office, eating Pupperoni. She looks great. Amazing, Dr. Jacobs says over and over again, shaking her head in disbelief. Absolutely amazing. Unbelievable.

There's nothing to be done for the old girl. Keep an eye on her. Keep a log of this, and any subsequent episodes. It was likely a seizure, says Dr. Jacobs.

She's taking her normal afternoon nap. She's the same old CoCo we know and love. She's fine. She's still living up to her end of the bargain. She's going to live forever. Good dog.
Both photos from this post were taken this afternoon. See? She's fine. I hope.