My dog Bo has epilepsy. A few years ago, his condition had become too much for his previous owner, and she wanted to have him put down. We rescued him from that situation and he’s been a great little guy ever since. Bo has a calm demeanor; the only times you hear him bark are when he’s hungry and when he’s playing with Camo, our other chihuahua. He’s one cool dude.
Bo’s on drugs — daily doggie downers. Still, his meds don’t completely prevent his seizures. Every six to eight weeks, on average, he’ll have a day where he suffers breakthrough seizures. We know now to expect them; at first, it was difficult to stand idly by while he jerked and frothed and lost control of his functions. (It’s still hard to watch.) We always call the veterinarian when it happens, and usually we take him in to have his blood work done, to be sure his medication levels are within the correct range.
I came home two nights ago to find Bo recovering from a seizure, and I was told that he had had several throughout the day. We assumed that it would be a ‘normal’ seizure cycle. Well, we were wrong. Bo’s seizures continued overnight, which has never happened before. In these last three days, he’s had dozens, and today he had an appointment with our vet, who referred us to a neurologist. (Who knew that there are dog neurologists? Well, not just for dogs, I suppose, but for animals. That was a new one on me.)
Bo is spending the night at the animal hospital, where he will be observed. He had to have IV fluids and medication, since he wasn’t eating or drinking. We were able to get some fluids down him at home using a syringe, but we worried that he would not get enough. I know he’s in good hands, but it’s lonely here without Bo, and his buddy Camo seems a bit lost, too.
Sleep well, little buddy.
UPDATE 1/12/13: We brought Bo home last night. He was decked out in a cool bandage on his leg and the ‘cone of silence’ as Mr. Stuck calls it. He had eaten and taken his meds while at the animal hospital, and he hadn’t had a seizure. They gave us new medication for his seizures and some for his eyes and some for pain. The transition to the new medication will take awhile – they warned us he would be ‘out of it’ for awhile. Sure enough, he’s wandering aimlessly around, and doesn’t seem to know what’s going on. I hope he improves, and I expect that he will. It’s almost as hard to see him like this as it was to see him convulsing. He’s also developed a facial tic, but we’re expecting that to calm down, too. We’re glad he’s back.