Health Scare

He ran up the full flight of stairs, like he does every day after our afternoon walk. That’s all. Just like every day.
Woody ran into my office to rug surf while I went into the kitchen to break a single Pupperoni treat into little pieces, just like he loves, like I do every day.
The sound I heard as I stood at the counter made my knees buckle: a high-pitched wailing. The agonized plea of a rabbit dying.
My Baby.
I ran down the hall and flew to my office floor where Woody lay, still, so still.
“No,no,no,no,no,noooooo….” I hunched over him, my hands shaking up and down so violently I was afraid if I touched him it would be a slap. I scooped him up supporting a rag doll dog head and pummeled down the stairs to David’s workshop.
“DAVID! DAVID!!!”
David stood at his saw table and half smiled and then his face fell. I lowered Woody onto the cool concrete floor of the shop and resumed my shaking hand tai chi movement over his lifeless little white body. “No, no, no, nooooooo!’ was all I could say and then David crouched down, too, and said, “Wake up, Little Buddy. C’mon, Dude, wake up.” And then to me: “Give him some air, you’re crowding him,” and I think I moved back a little bit and made my crazy hands fan him with air. I tried to stroke his head and his belly with my cold hands and my voice was some nervous breakdown Lady’s, shivering and rocket-pitched and all I could say was, “NOOooooooooo….”
“He’s coming to!” David yelled. And Woody woke up.
“Oh!Oh!Oh!” was all I could say, hands still flailing, afraid to pick him up, afraid to leave him there on the hard floor and certainly never, ever, able to let him go….

“His heart stopped,” the vet tells me.
I cannot stop petting him. “It’s called a syncopatic episode -” she said, searching for my eyes, which I can’t take off Woody, a silly half smile on my face. M’boy. He’s here. We still have time –
“- and there will be more of them. I’m putting him on heart medication, a third of a pill. He has to take this every day for the rest of his life.”
I am beaming, can’t stop petting him. He’s here. He’s alive. I – can’t.
“Dara, you must prepare yourself. This will happen again.” She looked at me and searched for my eyes some more, since I’ll admit, I am avoiding hers.
Finally I look at her, my eyes burning. “Thank you, “ I choked. “Thank you.”
*