Today is a sunny and beautiful Sunday.. summer is still on and autumn has not yet arrived. After our breakfast, i go out to check if there is any mail in the mail-box and helps to replenish food and fresh water for Doggie-Dog...
Suddenly, i see Doggie-Dog walking wobbily in the frontyard towards me and i know immediately that she is having seizure again.. i immediately tell Brownie about it and he comes out to take a look. Doggie-dog is panting under the front bush and salivating heavily... We immediately go towards her and stroke her on the back to make her feel comfortable. However, she keeps on panting heavily with her tongue sticking out constantly. Thinking that she cannot stand the heatstroke and the seizure, she collapses onto the ground. We try to lift her up as she also struggles to stand up. However, this is to no avail as her legs are shaking profusely. We lift her up half-way and pat her on the back. After some time, she seems better a bit. Then she walks wobbily towards the front doorsteps and try to walk up and down to pacify herself as well as to lessen the heatstroke. We think that she would be all right after some time.
But, heaven seems not to be on our side, the heatstroke seems to return again, this time more serious as it does not seem to stop, even after the normally five to ten minute attacks.. Then she struggles to the backyard and rests outside our room. i immediately ask Brownie to inform the landlord's son so that he can do something about it. He says that she should be okie after a while. But the heatstroke continues on for another couple of minutes or so.
Thinking that it is not right, the landlord's son comes out of his room immediately to see what is wrong. He sprays water on her thinking that it may be because of the heat that results in her having the heatstroke.. But Doggie-Dog does not seem to like the idea of water. After that, he gives her a bath, to let her feel more comfortable, simultaneously also saying that she may be dying soon since she has not had such a long seizure before... Hearing that, we feel sorry for her, but upon knowing that she already reaches seven years old; which is quite a ripe old age for a dog, we feel more relieved. Subsequently, we just go back to our rooms to continue to do our stuff while the landlord's son calls for the vet.
We start to study for our driving theory continuously until afternoon time. We come out to fry our rice for lunch when we see Doggie-Dog inside the house at the front door. The vet has treated her and let glucose drip into her. She seems better and standing though still a bit wobbily.. We are happy for her and as we eat our fried rice, she continues to walk into the kitchen and into the landlord's son's room to get some shade from the outside glaring sun.
That's the end of a busy day and all's well that ends well..
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