I’ve never let any of my dogs sleep in the bed with me, not even Nemo after Trent died.

But on Tuesday night, Roxie was in my bed, with pillows from my bed and my couch all around her, to keep her from falling over.

She was panting and drooling. When I stroked her muzzle, my fingertips came away wet with her tears. Her heart raced beneath my palm.

On Monday evening she had fallen over, sideways, legs spinning in the grass, unable to get up. I carried her back to our building.

On Tuesday morning we went to the ER-Vet and spent more than half the day there. The vet used her index finger in the air to trace the graph of Roxie’s possible trajectory. Either a slow or a steep end.

On Tuesday night, as she panted, I wondered how much time we had. I looked into her eyes but only one brown eye looked back at me. The other lolled down and left, the white of her eye where the pupil should have been

On Wednesday, she wasn’t crying but still struggled to walk. Even though I pulled the biggest, softest pillows from the bed and put them all around her, she would spasm into a belly flop, all four legs sticking out.

She’d look at me and I’d cry.

On Thursday, she could walk a little, and her head was no longer tilted sideways.

On Friday afternoon, we had the first open appointment with her regular vet, Dr. Bob.

Dr. Bob said the ER-Vet’s projection is true only ten percent of the time. Ninety percent of the time it’s an inner ear infection, which is what Roxie had, which he could tell because she was already recovering.

She got a prescription and we were on our way.

She’s sleeping now, on her bed without pillows, little belly rising slowly, falling slowly.

Roxie, Roxie, Roxie. You scared me.

Chewing the Cud of Good

Thankful for Roxie.