Laugh till I cry, and then I cry some more

 

Something only another owner of a seizure dog will understand. Me on the phone, calling my mom to see if she could watch one of my other dogs for a few days. Zander on my lap so said dog won’t attack her as she is having a seizure. Tim in the kitchen, trying to get out on a ride, looking for some OTC Prilosec for a “lets try this” Dr. remedy until I can get in Wednesday. My youngest son cruising through the kitchen foraging and learning how to stay calm in a crisis and keep moving forward.

So. I’m on the phone arranging things. The dog is spilling into another a seizure on my lap, safe from the other dog. The boy is eating a chicken wing three feet away as he watches, and Zander, semi conscious, is leaning, leaning, shaking, leaning, shaking, leaning, almost falling off my lap, trying to get control of herself just long enough to get . . . that . . . chicken bone.

I laughed so hard, I almost forgot to cry.

Clearly this bothers me more than her, my dog who thinks with her stomach.