I Love this Beast

We are asleep when it starts.
At first I think she’s just dreaming.
I soon realize it’s something else.
She loses control and falls to the floor.
She’s moving-shaking-and her eyes are vacant.
Her tongue is out, she’s foaming.
And this is when it hits me hard:
I love this beast.
But there’s nothing I can do.
I watch, wait.
I want to hold her, to let her know I’m there
But she is not there.
It seems to last forever and I am helpless.
Finally her spastic movements gradually slow.
Her eyes go from completely blank to distant staring.
They are full of fear.
“Hi,” I say softly as I reach out for her.
She recoils in fear.
She does not see me.
She has no idea where she is, who I am, who she is.
I watch, wait.
And then. Then she looks at me.
She’s still afraid but she’s back and she’s looking right at me.
Her body relaxes and she has some control.
She lets me hold her.
She licks my hand. One tiny lick.
As we sit there on the floor our fear fades and we just feel love.
I hold her tight.
She wags her tail.
Eventually she stands up.
She is confused and needs to smell it all.
She sniffs the bed, the floor, herself and me, trying to understand.
She’s thirsty too; she drinks and drinks.
Finally, investigations complete, thirst sated, she joins me again on the floor.
I’ve been watching, waiting.
She curls up by my leg and I skritch her head.
She is back. All is well.
I love this beast.