Sometimes, you just know.
|“Taubensee” by Dan Poehlman|
My ten-year-old pup is epileptic. He takes phenobarbital twice a day, every day to lessen the frequency and severity of his seizures, but it’s not a magic pill exactly. Sometimes one of those nasty things still breaks through. Taub knows when one is coming on, and he will do his best to find a human to make him feel better.
“Em!” Dan yelled to me from the living room, “I think Taub’s having a seizure.” I left the skillet in the sink and went to check on Taub. He was a little wobbly on his feet. Taub waited for Dan and I to sit down right next to him, and then he promptly puked on my living room carpet.
Dan got paper towels and I ran to get the SpotBot. When I came back, Dan was scooping chunks into a garbage bag. He looked up at me and made a face. I immediately set the carpet cleaner down.
In the past, my experience with Taubensee’s seizures and subsequent puking was to be utterly abandoned—left to console the dog, myself, and then clean up whatever physical damage had been done on my own. Sometimes, I would be reminded that money wasn’t meant to be spent on pet health and veterinarians. No moral support from Whatshisface, and certainly never any lifting of the proverbial finger to help a girl out. So it was with great wonder that I watched Dan do the dirty work before saying, “I will never, ever leave you.”