When he wanted to chase down the escaped Peter Rabbit and give that poor old gent a heart attack I finally put him back outside so we could get finished battening down the hatches for the torrential storm that was supposed to hit. Right before we went inside there was an almighty CRACK of thunder and we rushed into the house as we could hear poor Punkin scream. She has a fear of storms.
A few minutes later, she asked why Deacon was shivering. I assumed he was feeding off her anxiety and the sudden barometric pressure drop. But a few minutes later he threw up a terrible vileness and started shaking like a leaf in high wind. He was still responsive enough that it couldn't properly be called a seizure, but he could barely walk.
I asked if he wanted to go outside and he staggered to the door, then once outside he just lay down against my leg and shook and drooled. He threw up again
Handsome and I went nuts trying to get a vet on the phone. But this is a very, very rural area and most vets around here don't even treat dogs. Here, in the land of the puppy mill, dogs are considered replaceable. If your dog dies, the vet has 2 more in the back and he'll give you one. They figure it's already a better home then most as you bring your animal to a vet.
So there was nothing to do but wait and see. We thought he was dieing.
On the advice of a friend, we syringed some raw egg and honey down his throat. It is supposed to help in case of a copperhead bite and can't hurt. He threw most of it up, but did seem a little better after.
After an hour and a half, the terrible shaking subsided a little and he was able to sleep. We were so afraid to let him sleep. But every time Handsome called his name he would wag his tail. When Handsome crouched next to him to see if he was breathing and Deacon tried to roll for a belly rub (poor sweetheart was shaking so hard but managed it) we decided to bring him in, get him settled and let him sleep.
After an hour, wobbly, but no longer shaking, he staggered into the living room to get to "his" spot under the desk. After watching him sleep normally for a half hour, we thought it might be safe to go to bed. Handsome went to take our dinner dishes to the sink and Deacon came popping out to lick the plates!
In amazement, we let him. He was a little unsteady, but showed all his regular enthusiasm.
I asked "Do you want dinner?" and unsteadiness disappeared as he wagged so hard the white tip of his tail lashed back and forth over his back.
He ate some boiled rice with a raw egg over it and begged for more.
Handsome gave him a small handful of dogfood and would have fed him more for the sheer joy of watching him eat if I hadn't stopped him.
And just like that it was over. As quickly and mysteriously as it began. And almost a week later we still have no idea why.
I am so glad he's ok. I just hope it never happens again.
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