1.27.2016

January 26, 2016

White Dog was up and moving out of the way as Steve walked briskly through the house. "Puff is having a seizure," he called ahead as he carried the shuddering matriarch of our family into the office and placed her in my arms.

At 17 it is not unusual for the deterioration that comes from aging to include infrequent moments like this. At 92+/- human years, we worry about the toll such incidents take on our girl. She is stubborn and feisty but there is a certain fragility to her body and physical nature.

I held her in my arms as Steve ran and got the bag of frozen veggies to use as an ice pack to briefly bring down her core temp. Rocking and cooing softly took awhile to have the desired effect. The WDA gathered near and looked concerned. I whispered in her ear, "Sweet Girl try to relax rest your head against my heart and listen to my heartbeat." Puff was dripping with drool and slimed me as she pressed her face hard against my cheek. We breathed together, I set a pace of slow and deep and gradually she began to mimic me.

I wrapped her in a blanket and held her close. Steve went to clean up and check his work clothes. We washed up Puff and the floor. By then My Girl was struggling to get down. "Sweet One, please!" But she insisted and sure enough was able to walk around.

Steve continued with his original task of preparing early dinners for the White Dog Army (his late teaching night). He distributed meals to every one's joy (including Puff's who ate ravenously). Then he wandered through all of the rooms.

"Lose something?" "No but I still smell poop. I am not finding any. Will you check my clothes again?" I carefully looked him over before pronouncing everything clean. "Maybe just have the scent stuck in my head," he said. "I have to go back to school."

He reached into his trousers to get the car keys; he face soured. "Found it," he said. Poor Puff must have lost her bowels as he carried her in tucked against his hip and her aim perfectly landed the poop INSIDE of Steve's pocket. His wallet, keys and the pants themselves were iced. "At least she is solid."

He dashed into the bedroom to change clothes and then to the bathroom to clean off his paraphernalia. "Sweetheart," I said, "I am so sorry and now you are going to be late getting back." The giggles were starting to set in and Puff watched innocently from her mattress as I scrutinized Steve before kissing him goodbye. I would watch all evening but Puff seemed past the moment and had eaten and now looked normal.

"Look at the bright side," White Dog said as a sendoff, "At least you did not discover it during class!"

5 comments:

Random Felines said...

mom read that first line and our hearts all sank....but it seems that all was fine (maybe except Steve's stuff - MOL)

Gus said...

Glad the early results are so good for Puff. Poor Steve. Teaching is much like performing in a drama (or a comedy), but it doesn't take much to put one off the script.

The Florida Furkids said...

We're so sorry that Puff had a seizure. We're glad that she seems okay now. We can't help but MOL @ the pocketed Poop!!!

The Florida Furkids

NanaNor's said...

Hi there, It is so very hard when our beloved babies age and start to have seizures. Our last dog, before Hunter, had them for the last night months of his life-thankful only one grand mall. The vet thought he had a brain tumor but he outlast the prognosis. Hope Puff is back to her normal self and those seizure leave her alone.
Hugs,
Noreen

Brian said...

Poor sweet Puff. We are glad to hear all is okay, as okay can be at that age. Gentle hugs from all of us dear Puff.