I woke up in the middle of the night as sick as a dog. Wait. My dog never got this sick. Henry, my Golden, had the constitution of an ox and the compassion of a Mystic, so he followed me from the bedroom as I raced to the bathroom.
I don’t remember what happened next, except when I awakened I had a huge headache, an even bigger lump on my head, and someone breathing into my nose.
I had not only fainted, I must have had a seizure (rare but an occurrence if my body gets stressed). I lay flat on the cold tile bathroom floor; just lifting my head caused me to groan. The dizziness was all-encompassing. I could not get up.
But not Henry. His face covered mine, and then he licked me from stem to stern. “Stop,” I moaned. His tongue was long and wet and cold. I began to shiver. Henry would have nothing to do with my protestations. Once he explored my skin and found no blood, he knew what to do to protect me.
He plopped on top of me. The warmth of his body settled mine. I didn’t want him there, and I shouted for him to leave. But he never wavered, except for getting up once in a while to peer into my eyes. Was I okay?
After three hours, I finally crawled from bathroom to bed and climbed up on the bed, burrowing into the sheets. I slept for hours and when I woke up mid-morning, hours later than Henry’s own pee time and breakfast, he sat upright next to the bed, staring into my eyes. Are you okay? He asked, licking my face.
No. I pulled my phone close and called my daughter to help me. Henry never left my side until she arrived, and even then, he’d never peed so fast, forsaking his meal to plop right by my side again.
More Mystic than ox, I decided.