Jojo, my first dog, was diagnosed with epilepsy when he was almost 3 years old. We’d just moved from Illinois to New York for school, and his seizures started not long after our arrival. The vet said that they were possibly environmentally induced.
A dog with epilepsy faces a life on medication, in Jojo’s case phenobarbital. His seizures started infrequently, but became so commonplace and severe that he could barely get outside for walks. Often times my boyfriend and I would have to carry him up and down the stairs of our East Village apartment building to the sidewalk. There was no more running, jumping, or fetching in his future. In fact, the vet had suggested we put him down.
One day not long after starting an increased round of medication, Jojo went out an open kitchen window while we were out and fell three stories into the concrete courtyard. At roughly the same moment my dog was falling out a window, I was gripped by inexplicable distress and overwhelming sadness at my job, and left for home without saying anything to anyone.
When I got to the apartment and Jojo wasn’t there, I asked my neighbor if she’d taken him out. No, but she’d heard a bark a half hour ago and thought little of it.Looking down from the open window, I saw nothing in the courtyard. We searched the building. Nothing. We left to search outside.
From the building’s front sidewalk, I peered down the stairs leading to the passageway into the courtyard. Lying at the bottom of the first rung, my Jojo raised his head slightly to look at me.
I hurried down and took his head in my lap as my neighbor went to call the vet. A few minutes later, after three short, labored gasps, Jojo died in my arms.
I know, I know. Dogs don’t commit suicide.
But I have always wondered what possessed Jojo to go out that window. Had he seen a pigeon? Was he trying to leave the apartment? Did he see someone he knew in another window and try to reach him? Or did he simply slip, medicated and unsteady, trying to feel sunshine?
And while I am not one for psychic phenomena, something happened to me that day at work that I’ve never been able to explain.
It was as if my dog was calling me home.
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Janet,
Your story saddens me. I'm sorry to hear your poor Jojo had such a hard life. My family had a Dalmatian when I was younger. They rescued her from a home after the owner tied her to a flagpole and beat her. Because of the beating she too became an epileptic dog and took the same medication you mentioned. We had her for many years but not as many as she deserved if she were not in that condition. I feel your pain but know that you gave Jojo the best you could!
I also had an epileptic dog (I wonder if this is more common than I thought..). He died very young :(. I'm sorry about Jojo!
Thanks for sharing your story. So sorry it ending tragically but how incredible that you were called to the scene just in time to see her off. I love the connection humans have with their pets. Super amazing.
Thanks Amanda. Writing this got me doing research on dogs jumping from windows or bridges. Very sad when it happens.
Sorry about yr dog too… and animals don't understand the illness.
It's still a mystery to me how I knew to come home.
I was so sorry to read that you had lost your dog. He seems like such a sweetheart. I read in a book a few days ago about the emotional connections we have with loved ones. When they experience pain, sadness, joy, we inexplicably feel their emotion at the same time. It's a phenomenon that exists but I don't think it has been explored too much. Regardless, I fully believe that the reason you knew to come home that day was because of the emotional tie you and your dog shared. 🙂
speechless story…