Bump

New Old Dog had a seizure this afternoon.

The seizure itself was about two minutes. Fortunately I was there to lay him down and make sure he was in a safe area. (I've lately been watching occasional episodes of a standard medical drama show, and I distinctly remember thinking well that's a bit much every time a human patient allegedly went into a seizure. After this afternoon, though, I stand corrected. New Old Dog's seizure was pretty violent.)

After the seizure stopped, though, came the harder part. He was extremely agitated and confused, and his vision was affected. He ran around, bumping into things and whining, nonstop, for an hour and a half. He didn't seem to recognize or notice my presence much of the time. I took him to the back yard to minimize the number of hazards, and he trotted, nearly running, around the edges of the yard, over and over again, as if looking for a way to escape. I tried holding him, but he just screamed and flailed, so I let him pace instead. I had to occasionally unstick him from bushes or the patio furniture. He wanted to just keep going. Bump, run, bump. 

Eventually, he calmed down, and had some water, and then seemed to understand that I was trying to help him. He sat in my lap for a bit, and is now sleeping next to me. 

It was... a lot. 

I'll give him one of Tiny Dog's anti-seizure pills this evening, to try to ward off a recurrence until we can get him into the vet's office.

Bless his heart. My poor little old man. 

Good boy.