I. It sounded like a machine gun banging on the living room floor. Two women and two little boys ran from the dinner table to a gruesome sight, lasting a minute, wild thrashing and chattering teeth.
Seizure. The boys were tender and sweet and more loving than afraid. And for a few moments the next day this dog who was meeting children probably for the first time in his life ran with them in the back yard, all three chasing a purple ball.
"We have to be gentle or he could break," three year old Drew said. And then, later, after asking BB, "People have those seizures sometimes too."
This darling dog had a weekend of non stop two big and many small seizures. All day and all night. He paced; he tried to rest, only to jump up as if shocked by a lightening bolt. His new family took turns sleeping on the floor with him until dawn, not daring to say aloud that this might be too much.
Monday morning, his neurologist from Angell Memorial Hospital and a local vet conferred and a plan was presented. A higher dose of medication, a one time emergency dose, a supply of liquid Valium in the mail to be administered by catheter if and hopefully only if not when such a serious confluence of seizures were to happen again.
The little boys hugged this darling dog and rubbed his ears as they had been shown. They kissed him and told their parents how sweet he is.
The darling dog has recovered and has tripled bonded to his new home.
The two women, now exhausted, looked at one another.
"Can we handle this?" one asked.
"Yes," they both answered. "He is the sweetest dog. Look how grateful he is."
They both looked. Definitely grateful. In just four weeks. Bonded.
2. "Don't tell me you spent that much money on a camera for a five year old!"
His mother my daughter did not sound pleased. But I did and I am. The kid camera with the plastic case and awful memory didn't work out one bit. It was too complicated for too little. Mr. Ryan and I want to take pictures together. So I told him in August that I was going to give him a new camera for my birthday. But I told him I had to save for it first and I did.
On Saturday Mr. Ryan and I his grandmother went to a very nice camera store for information on an indestructible drop proof, water proof, dirt proof camera. A very nice man showed him how to point and shoot, zoom in and out, save and delete. He told him that a grown up should change and charge the battery for at least a month, until he was experienced enough to understand how to do it properly.
We bought the camera. It came in red, black or aqua blue. Mr. Ryan chose aqua blue. We bought a little case with a strap.
When we returned to my house and into the next day, I wrote out lists: fireplace, kitchen window, birdbath, bedroom light, green cricket chair. I read the lists to Mr. Ryan and he took wandered in and out taking photos. He deleted most of them, preferring pictures of Chase so he could show his parents how wonderful a dog he is.
He dropped the camera five times and wore it around his neck while wrestling with his brother. I told him ten times that this is a big boy camera and it requires special care. We decided where he would keep it in his room and how he and I will learn how to use the flash and maybe some of the settings.
"He's five years old!" my daughter told me. I know. It might be a bad idea after all. But maybe someday he will remember that his grandmother believed he could do it, and maybe someday he will have a special asset he is proud of. And maybe someday when he is a man he and I will look back and remember that we have spent years together, in the park, at the beach, on a trail, during dinner, over Christmas, hanging out: taking pictures.
Worth every penny.