Worm

Worm was the first Black and Tan that I ever owned.  I adopted her from my local Humane Society and found out one month later exactly why she had ended up there--she had severe epilepsy.  I witnessed her drop into her first grand mal seizure; three hours later she had had five more.  I called the vet and we agreed on hospitalizing her mainly to prevent her brain from swelling due to the seizures.  The veterinarian told me that he'd never had to pump a dog so full of drugs before. 

Over the next year she was hospitalized three more times.  Her pattern was that when the seizures hit she would go through 20-25 of them during a three day period.  After about the 7th one she lost all concepts of reality, was incredibly disoriented, and forgot all potty training.  She took daily doses of phenobarbital but it was simply impossible to prevent all the seizures.  I began caring for her at home during those bad times rather than hospitalizing her, admittedly to save money.  During these spells I would stay awake for three days and hold her down as she seized and basically just kept her safe.  The seizure clusters began getting farther and farther apart as she aged until they were only once a year. 

Some people felt I should put her down but the veterinarian said that she was not in enough pain that death was the best option.  I am one who will stick by her dogs regardless of personal hardship until the point comes when killing is best for the dog.  When she was an old lady she died as a rare side-effect due to anesthesia from a dental.  Her stomach flipped and the horrible suffering she endured that day still makes me cringe.  I blamed myself for a long time, and still sometimes do, for not catching it earlier, but what's done is done.

Living with Worm was an experience I wouldn't trade for the world.  She inadvertantly taught me perserverance and how to put the needs of another before my own.