Heartbreak and Comfort

My old dog Sydney had a stroke this morning.

I was home, thank goodness, because I had a migraine and had to cancel my plans to meet hokgardner (from the comments) and her mother (also from the comments) for yarn shopping. (Did I really just thank goodness for having a migraine?) It wasn't a terrible migraine so I wasn't lying on the bathroom floor when Sydney staggered into the back room, threw up and kind of collapsed. She couldn't walk. I called our mobile vet but couldn't get her right away and when I saw that Syd was shaking and her eyes were twitching, I called the stationary vet and took her in. I had to carry her in from the car. She was still shaky and couldn't walk. The technician took her back to draw some blood and I sort of, um, fell apart in the waiting room. This total stranger was hugging me and telling me about her own dog and there was snot germs and Kleenex everywhere.

Isn't it an amazing thing that the instinctive reaction of most people is to hold someone who is crying? That our instinctive reaction to sadness is to want to comfort? Sometimes, I swear, you can see the fundamentals of God in people. If you think about it, it will take your breath away.

They kept Syd for observation and sent me home. The vet just called and we'll be able to pick her up tonight. Her blood work looked okay and she seemed to be regaining some of her coordination and she even ate a little bit.

I went home and laid on the couch and both of the cats came and curled up right on me and poor Scout wandered around like he'd lost something.

But you didn't, Scoutie. Not this time.