my worst nightmare.
It’s no secret that I love my dogs more than I love my human family. They all sleep in bed with me and keep me warm. They’re around when I need someone to talk to and drive me insane almost as much as they keep me grounded.
I don’t know what I would’ve done without them this past year—which was needlessly rough.
This last week wasn’t all that great to begin with—beginning with an unfortunate decision to see the vampire against all better judgement which ended horribly (as expected), then finding a dead dog that the city won’t bother to clean up (it was also a pit bull), having a halfway decent week with some extra cashflow (not much but a lot for me) and the motivation to work out, which really buoyed my spirits. Work has been a bit more even-keeled so it’s tolerable and not as miserable as before.
I went to bed fairly early last night, around 12:30 after working out when I got home late. I didn’t get a chance to walk the dogs, but only because it was dangerous and too late to do so. We all go into bed, Israel curled up against my right side under the blankets, the spot he’s taken for almost a year, since I moved into my house. I think about losing my dogs quite often—I guess I just like to torture myself.
Israel has serious behavioral problems and he’s strong as an ox. He would probably give an ox a run for it’s money, actually. But aside from all that, he’s also the most sensitive animal I’ve ever met. And he worships me. And he’s like my child. I have to protect him and coddle him when the rest of the world is terrified of him or hates him just because of the way he looks.
I was woken up around 3:45 AM by the strange, deliberate push of Israel’s massive skull against my side. He sleeps between me and the wall—I keep the blanket completely over him to keep out the cold. He was sitting up and swaying involuntarily, the motions were unnatural and told me immediately something was very, very wrong.
I got out of bed, he automatically tried to follow me, Judah jumped down and Simona was up and at ‘em. I turned on the light and saw Israel’s body twisted unnaturally when he tried to move—his back legs crossed, rigid, preventing him from moving. His face was blank, his pupils were constricted, showing mostly the honey gold color of his iris’. His ribs jutted out, stomach sucked in drastically. I kept calm, still disoriented myself, and grabbed his broad face between my hands, looking into his eyes, quietly saying his name and asking over and over, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He fell off the bed, I helped him back up. He was staring at me but not seeing me. Every time I said his name he was able to wag his tail, but he couldn’t move in any sort of coordinated manner. It was like he was stuck inbetween wakefulness and sleep, trying to get to me, but he was just…lost. It took what seemed like an eternity for him to come out of it—falling down over and over, slamming hard into the ground without blinking. He shook it off, seemed to “wake up” and walked around the room a couple times, then was at the door as if he needed to go outside to go to the bathroom. So I let them all out into the dark yard and panicked quietly, putting on my slippers and grabbing my hoodie, afraid that if I went outside he would be laying there, dead. But he was fine, he came bounding back towards me from the back of the yard, as if nothing at all had happened.
I went to sleep holding him tightly, praying the whole time an endless mantra that took me back into a nightmarish sleep, “Please don’t take Israel…please don’t take Israel…”
So add that to my list of “Things I never wanted to see…”
Judah getting hurt, Steve being arrested, Israel having a seizure.
And the worst is I’m alone and have to deal with this by myself. The dog fights, losing Shifra, Steve getting arrested, Israel having a seizure.
Come on, God. Keep it coming. Throw all You’ve got at me.
I have nothing to lose now.
