To put a cherry on the top of my epic disaster known as last night, I went to bed around 9:00 pm. My dog is disabled. Born in Hurricane Irene, she was unexpected and the only puppy. She has horrible anxiety and seizures. She is on medication and I have to pin her up against me to feel anything alarming when she sleeps at night.
At 2:30 am, she had a mild seizure despite not having one since April when she was placed in the ICU overnight. She is 8 years and 3 months old. When she survived near death in April, I saw her strength and, call it strange, she inspires me to fight. She is a warrior.
Her behaviors have changed since then. She is more dominant, loyal, loving, funny, and a space cadet from her medication. Everything is fine, but I jolted awake in a panic. The same panic I felt in April when she was near death.
I am all about losing everything, being rejected, screwed over, ignored….you name it. My dog is NOT an option for me to lose.