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On Saturday, October 28, 2000, Loki fell down the stairs. I don't know if he fell because of a seizure, or if Kari toppled him down, but the seizure he had as a result, was the worst seizure I have ever seen. Not as violent as his past, but this time he was conscious. He screamed! And kept screaming, it was the most horrifying thing I have ever heard, and I hope I never hear it again. I will never forget that sound!
He had two more, in rapid succession, screaming all the while. Both were not too violent, but all the more scarey for the sound. His recovery time was swift, and by evening, I judged him to be back to normal. A friend had come to town to visit. We headed out, thinking he would be fine for a few hours. By midnight, we returned, all was as it should be, Loki was happy to see us, and everything was normal, even to the point where he scared somebody off our property in the middle of the night. I was not in very good shape, having had quite a bit to drink. Apparently I slept through two more seizures in the early hours of the morning.
Sunday morning, again, he seemed well. Happy, alert, and playful.
All that changed by 3 in the afternoon.
At 3, he keeled over, and the convulsions started again. This time they didn't stop at all. I called, everywhere! Every single vet in the phone book and not ONE!! Could tell me what to do! I called family, I called friends, literally begging for a ride or a vehicle to get him to the city! Even my sister, who knows this pain, refused!
By 8 PM, Loki was brain dead. He stopped responding, and the convulsions had died down to violent tremours. I called the local human doctors. Nobody was even willing to put him to sleep this time. I remember cursing and screaming at the nurses until they hung up on me.
I wrapped my buddy, my best friend, my canine soulmate in a blanket and sat down with him in my lap. I held him through the next 8 and a half hours, never letting go when Dave came home, just screaming at him from the chair. I never let him go when his tremours made it hard to hold him, and not even when he would catch my arm in his mouth, jaw closing painfully.
I held onto him until 6 that morning. He passed away at 4:30 in the morning. Even then I couldn't let go.
My little buddy. The heart of my love for dogs. My teacher, my companion, my soulmate.
The two year anniversary of his death is now approaching, and I've been looking back at what he taught me. He was the dog who started it all. I was nowhere near the responsible owner I should have been before he came to me. And then he came into my life and taught me about loving a dog so much it still hurts to type this even after two years, about caring for a dog and having him be as much a part of your family as your human children.
Because of him, I have learned everything I can about caring for dogs, and now his legacy carries on, and I am still learning.
I have three dogs in my family now, and they have the very best care that anybody can give them. Unlike Loki, they will all live long and healthy lives. I will make sure of that.
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