One of the inevitable consequences of living every moment of life for five months straight in the confines of a small boat with just a husband and a dog, is the formation of unusually tight bonds. Really, it's a blessing that we all came back loving each other more instead of loathing the sight of one another. Really. I'm pretty grateful for that. Now that we're back on land, Riley and I can go our separate ways to do whatever it is we need to do, but it's still "normal" for us to have conversations, like last nights, that go something like this:
Women always seem to complain that their significant others can't read their minds. Well, mine can. Yes, it is just as helpful and as scary as you might imagine.
But as far as Gidget is concerned, I have become a Crazy Dog Lady. This isn't the same as a Crazy Cat Lady who hoards as many felines as she can get her hands on. My brand of craziness is more along the lines of being completely in tune and hyper sensitive to an individual dog's wants, needs, pains… etc.
So, needless to say, when Gidget started having seizures, I fell to pieces. She had a really bad one last Friday that left me a sloppy, soggy, puffy mess for the rest of the day. When I finally pulled myself together enough to drive to the vet for some Valium (for her, not for me… although it was tempting), it only took the back to back combination of Beyoncé's "Halo" and Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" to open the floodgates again. Of course, now that I think about it, I was listening to The Best Hits of the Eighties, Nineties, and Today, so I really was kind of asking for it.
Anyway, right now we're in the process of vet visits and bloodwork and tests to try to figure out what exactly is causing her seizures and how we can treat them. So if you happen to have a spare thought or prayer for a pup and her girl, they'd be so much appreciated. And maybe one for the poor fellow who is so tightly bonded to the emotional and physically unstable pair, I think he'd appreciate it as well.