Yesterday I wrote about being nervous every time I heard a noise. Well, Truman had a seizure yesterday afternoon. He didn't make any noises, but he did come and stand right next to me. I was a little aggravated with him because I was doing laundry, and he was right under my feet and wouldn't move. Then, I looked at him, and he started to flip over on his side. I scooped him up and got him to the couch before he had a full-on seizure. I held him there until Brian got home with my Mexican pizza, and he could watch him.
Unfortunately, right as I finished eating, he threw up his guts--I don't know where all that food came from, but it was ALOT--and he was laying on Brian's chest (who was lying down on the couch) when it happened so Brian was covered in vomit, and it was dripping everywhere. Yuck. I had to clean up Brian and Truman because the poor dog got it all over himself. Good thing the couch is slip-covered.
After I got them cleaned up, Brian left me to take care of him while he went to the gym. He is so damn clueless it's not even funny.
Truman wanted down, and he stumbled and wandered all over the place. I was afraid he was going to fall down and hurt himself so I made him get back on the vomit couch with me and sit still. Altogether, the seizure, from start to finish, lasted around 45 minutes. Poor, poor dog. It just breaks my heart.
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