Dumb dog
(Not that it isn't always, but I do need to recall when this happened for veterinary reasons.)
Today I let the damn thing romp through the elementary school woods, slipped the lead back on it, took a few steps with it, and it promptly had a seizure. At first I thought it was limping due to ice in its back pawpad, but once I cleared that out the same weird limping gait happened with a forepaw. I lifted that one, and then suddenly all three of the dog's legs turned to jelly and it started to lose its balance. It wobbled around for a few seconds, developed a full-body tremble, and went vacant-eyed. Moreso than a dog usually is.
Weirdly, he never actually fell; I think he was still quasi-responsive, because when I saw he was staggering I told him to go into a sit and he did (with a few seconds' delay). I sat down on the asphalt and let him lean against me for a minute or so, during which I had a lot of time to think about how much it was going to suck if he couldn't get up again with my parents out of town and us both out of eye and ear-shot of nearby houses.
(This was especially surreal because, honestly, if I'd had to guess which one of us would've ended up suffering some catastrophic health-event during a walk, I'd have been sure it would be me . . .)
Anyway, he came out of it eventually and I managed to get him walking back home. I don't think he really registered what was going on again until we'd left the school grounds, at which point he heard a car and immediately transformed back into his hyperactive self. By the time we got back home he was alert and prancing again, but I dragged his fluffy ass to the vet anyway. Something about random seizures can put one in an urgent state of mind.
Long story short, vet found no immediate heart abnormalities (her first guess), so we're waiting for the labs to come back on his various cultures. He'd been showing no signs of neurological abnormalities before or after, so the whole thing was really perplexing. Barring a brain tumor or electrolyte imbalance or something, she said it could just be one of those strange one-off things pets and people experience sometimes. But you know, this is Wilson, so it's probably gonna be something expensive. (Though I'd be okay if it was just epilepsy. If I knew it wasn't immediately dangerous the noodleleg-effect would be hysterical.)
Either way, that is how the dog ruined my Monday afternoon.
Otherwise, nothing exciting. Got a phone interview for a hospital job on Thursday (set up by my current boss, in fact). Part-time, but still more than I'm getting at my current job. Brothers are in town for a bit. And Abyss has me reading Jim Butcher's Dresden Files, of which I have just begun Turn Coat. Fun stuff . . . and I will be forever grateful that Laurel K. Hamilton will not be Missouri's sole contribution to urban fantasy.
Today I let the damn thing romp through the elementary school woods, slipped the lead back on it, took a few steps with it, and it promptly had a seizure. At first I thought it was limping due to ice in its back pawpad, but once I cleared that out the same weird limping gait happened with a forepaw. I lifted that one, and then suddenly all three of the dog's legs turned to jelly and it started to lose its balance. It wobbled around for a few seconds, developed a full-body tremble, and went vacant-eyed. Moreso than a dog usually is.
Weirdly, he never actually fell; I think he was still quasi-responsive, because when I saw he was staggering I told him to go into a sit and he did (with a few seconds' delay). I sat down on the asphalt and let him lean against me for a minute or so, during which I had a lot of time to think about how much it was going to suck if he couldn't get up again with my parents out of town and us both out of eye and ear-shot of nearby houses.
(This was especially surreal because, honestly, if I'd had to guess which one of us would've ended up suffering some catastrophic health-event during a walk, I'd have been sure it would be me . . .)
Anyway, he came out of it eventually and I managed to get him walking back home. I don't think he really registered what was going on again until we'd left the school grounds, at which point he heard a car and immediately transformed back into his hyperactive self. By the time we got back home he was alert and prancing again, but I dragged his fluffy ass to the vet anyway. Something about random seizures can put one in an urgent state of mind.
Long story short, vet found no immediate heart abnormalities (her first guess), so we're waiting for the labs to come back on his various cultures. He'd been showing no signs of neurological abnormalities before or after, so the whole thing was really perplexing. Barring a brain tumor or electrolyte imbalance or something, she said it could just be one of those strange one-off things pets and people experience sometimes. But you know, this is Wilson, so it's probably gonna be something expensive. (Though I'd be okay if it was just epilepsy. If I knew it wasn't immediately dangerous the noodleleg-effect would be hysterical.)
Either way, that is how the dog ruined my Monday afternoon.
Otherwise, nothing exciting. Got a phone interview for a hospital job on Thursday (set up by my current boss, in fact). Part-time, but still more than I'm getting at my current job. Brothers are in town for a bit. And Abyss has me reading Jim Butcher's Dresden Files, of which I have just begun Turn Coat. Fun stuff . . . and I will be forever grateful that Laurel K. Hamilton will not be Missouri's sole contribution to urban fantasy.