The longest night
I had just finished the book Reminders of Him by Colleen Hoover. It was 1:30am and I could hear the wind and the rain outside. The storm complimented my mood. This book brought on a deep sadness within me. While I was reading it I kept pausing and thinking about my own internal battles. When I closed the book and saw that it was storming it only enhanced those feelings. I laid in bed tossing and turning. I couldn’t go to sleep. This book left me with an uneasy feeling about everything, honestly. The story ended with a happy ending but it didn’t skip a beat in letting you feel the loneliness and troubles of the main character.
It was now 2:30am. I’m finally about to doze off into my sleep when I hear a loud thudding on the floor like something is being held against its will and is banging on the floor to get up. It startles me and the room is dark so I can’t see. As I shoot up from my bed to turn on the nearest light I yell Gypsy’s name hoping she returns any sort of sound my way. Once the light is on my breathing gets faster. I see she’s shaking uncontrollably and I freeze. The words, “Gypsy, it’s okay.” fall out of my mouth but are delivered with a shakiness and doubt. Is she okay? Am I okay? What is going on?
I call for Gypsy again and she tries to sit up. Her muscles aren’t working but she tries.
Okay I know she’s with me.
But she’s scared. I hug her to try and provide comfort. Nothing seems to stop her shaking. I get up and run to the kitchen saying “No, no, no!” out loud. I started to think she had been poisoned. I rip a piece of paper from the fridge.
Thank god I left the emergency vet contact list on the fridge
I dial the first number I see and to my surprise someone picks up within 1 minute.
“Um, hi. My dog won’t stop shaking and can’t walk.”
“Okay how long has your dog been like this?”
“Honestly, about 2-3 minutes. I heard a thudding on the floor for a minute before I registered that it was my dog.”
“Okay, yeah sounds like your dog is having a seizure. Let me talk to the doc, hold tight.”
I get gypsy to walk to the kitchen. She is still walking funny but shaking a little less.
Her eyes show all the fear and when I look into them I begin to cry. She doesn’t know what’s going on and I don’t have answers for her. I feel helpless looking at her. I begin to pet her and tell her she’s okay.
The vet picks the phone back up and says,
“Okay, so has the shaking stopped and can she walk again?”
I scan Gypsy head to paw and reply, “She’s not shaking as much and she can walk a little better.”
“Okay, monitor her to make sure she doesn’t have another one. If she does bring her in, of course, and make sure you time them. And lastly, I would take her to get checked out to make sure…well I don’t want to scare you but a brain tumor is a possibility.”
Fuck
My lips are quivering and my eyes are pools that are about to overflow.
I make a quick exit on the phone call before I overflow.
“Thank you for the information, bye.”
I put my hands to my face and started crying.
It’s now 2:40am and these 10 minutes have felt like an eternity.
I’ve never experienced anything like this. Watching my dog have no control over her body and mind was scary. I laid next to her and wrapped an arm around her. I know I’m supposed to be comforting her but she’s actually comforting more than she knows.
After a few minutes, we both got up and went back into my room. I watched her every move to make sure she was okay. I got her cozy in her bed and as for me well I wasn’t going to be getting any sleep. I tried to close my eyes but how the fuck was I supposed to just lay there and peacefully drift into sleep after that.
I thought she was dying right in front of my eyes. I wasn’t with her most of the day so I was even more worried about what she might have gotten into with my brother.
It was a lot to process and I just continued to quietly cry to myself.
I started to think about when I first got her, our adventures, our bonding, everything.
At this moment I realize I don’t know what I would do or who I would be without Gypsy. I got her at 19 years old. She came into my life at such a fundamental time. She is my companion.
But my mind wastes no time reminding me that this is what happens. Dogs don’t live forever. Things happen.
.
I want to believe Gypsy will live forever with me, but I know that’s not the truth. Death has no invitation. I know that. In this strange hour of the night I was reminded that there isn’t infinite time with my dog. I was also reminded that I LOVE the shit out of my dog and there really is something so special about a connection with an animal. I’m shaken up a bit, but it could’ve been worse. She is fine for now. And I will no longer be reading sad books at night.
-Nicole K