The Epi Dog Mom Blog

Aussie Love, Epilepsy Struggles, and the Hope That Keeps Us Going

POSTS

  • Forrest’s Guide to Being the Goodest Boi 🐶

    Hey frenz, it’s me — Forrest aka little dude. I’ve been told I’m a very good boi (Mom says I’m the goodest), so I thought I’d share some of my secrets in case any other pups want to step up their game. 🐕

    Rule #1: Stick Close to Your Human ☝🏼

    Especially when they need you. Especially when you need them.
    Even when they go to the bathroom. Even when they move three inches on the couch. Stay close. Make it weird. Tail (or should I say, nub) contact recommended.

    Rule #2: Tongue Out, Always 😋

    A little tongue goes a long way. It makes the hoomans smile and sometimes gets you extra belly rubs. Just let it peek out… like a tiny pink napkin. Effortless. Iconic.

    Rule #3: Master the Side-Eye 👀

    Use it sparingly but with great impact. Especially when Mom says “no” to a snacko or gives you that look when you get caught digging in the dirt. (Spoiler: worth it.)

    Rule #4: Be Brave, Even When It’s Hard ❤️‍🩹

    Seizures are scary. Pills are weird. But bravery isn’t about being fearless — it’s about snuggling through the hard days and showing up again and again with waggy determination. Remember, there is always tomorrow and more frisbees that need catching!

    Rule #5: Be the Vibe 🙂

    Need to nap in a sunbeam? Do it. Want to splash in a kiddie pool like a toddler on espresso? Yes. Want to gently rest your paw on Mom’s hand like a tiny lavender-scented angel? Absolutely. Whatever the vibe, be the vibe.

    Rule #6: Let Love Be Loud 🗯

    Bark. Even when there’s nothing there to bark at. Just bark. Do it loud. Do it proud.

    I may have epilepsy, but I also have a lot of love to give. Being the goodest boi isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being present, being kind, and knowing when to pull out your best tongue-out face.

    Stay pawsitive, frens. 💜
    — Forrest (dictated by Mom, paw-proved by me.)

  • What I Feed Forrest — and Why 🐶

    I used to feed my dogs kibble, but when my senior girl Lily started slowing down, I began adding homemade crockpot toppers to her meals — things like ground turkey, sweet potatoes and veggies. It was my first step into the world of whole food feeding, even though I didn’t know it at the time. Lily was diagnosed with inoperable cancer in July of 2019, and I lost her less than two weeks later. Losing her broke me. But it also changed me. She taught me to ask more questions, trust my gut, and always advocate for my dogs. I promised her — and Forrest — that I would never stop learning and doing better.

    So, when Forrest was diagnosed with late-onset idiopathic epilepsy in August 2024 at age 7, I dove deep. I followed my vet’s advice and fed him Purina NeuroCare for a while, adding homemade toppers. But after months with no seizure improvement, I knew we needed a better path — one that was fresher, more supportive, and built on real ingredients.

    I now feed Forrest a home-prepared diet using Dr. Harvey’s Paradigm, a keto premix where I just add the protein. Right now, that means cooking and shredding about three whole chickens aweek. He’s adjusted well, and honestly, it smells amazing — even to me! I’m planning to rotate in their Raw Vibrance blend soon for added nutrients. Feeding a home-cooked diet is a labor of love. It’s not always easy, but it gives me peace of mind. I’m still working with a veterinary nutritionist to get things fully balanced, and I’ll always be adjusting based on what works best for Forrest.

    Glutamate, dairy, and rosemary are seizure triggers, so we avoid those completely —even in treats. His new favorite frozen bedtime treat is a puree of his food, chicken broth, sardines, and blueberries in a Toppl. He loves it!

    I’m not in any way affiliated with Dr. Harvey’s — just a dog mom who’s been really impressed by their quality and service. But if they’re looking for affiliates, I think it’s safe to say Forrest would be interested! 😉

    If you’re on a similar journey, I’d love to hear what you’re feeding your epi dog, too. This journey is all about learning.

    From our lavender world of grace — we’re holding onto hope and walking by faith. 💜

  • Our Epi Story: How it began ❤️‍🩹

    On July 19, 2024, our lives changed forever. At 5:40 am, I was jolted awake by the sound of my dog, Forrest, hitting the floor. In the darkness, I heard only strange noises—then saw him violently seizing. My seemingly healthy seven-year-old Aussie, my best friend, was in a severe crisis. All I could do was hold him, pray, and tell him how much I loved him and what a good boy he was as tears streamed down my face. In that moment, I truly thought he was dying.

    He survived, but that terrifying morning was just the beginning. A second seizure came 17 days later. I thought I was more prepared—with a bed rail and rescue meds—but epilepsy has a way of humbling you. He fell again, right through the bed rail; and I wasn’t able to draw up the rescue meds in time. My heart broke all over. I felt so helpless. So unprepared. So frustrated. So scared.

    After an MRI and spinal tap at Mississippi State, Forrest was diagnosed with late onset idiopathic epilepsy. Since then, he’s had ten grand mal seizures and several focal ones. I’ve completely changed his diet, consulted with a canine nutritionist, and I spend hours each week researching everything I can. I’m always watching, always preparing, always praying.

    His seizures mostly happen at night so I don’t sleep much. I wake every time he stirs. But I’m prepared now. I go to bed each night with his rescue meds drawn up and ready to go. I’ve learned I have to let him play, run, and even vacation again someday. We’ve canceled plans, missed trips, and made sacrifices, but I won’t let epilepsy define his life. We have to live and enjoy the time that we’ve been given.

    Forrest is still the happiest, sweetest, most loving dog I’ve ever known. He does silly tricks, catches frisbees, and makes me laugh when he mimics my silly tongue faces. I’m so thankful that despite all the medication he is on and despite his seizures, he’s still his same, happy self in between. After he comes out of a seizure, he always looks for me, even when he can’t see right away—looking for love, for comfort—and I’m always right there.

    I haven’t left him much since this began, and almost each time I have, he’s had a seizure. But I’m learning how to navigate this life we didn’t choose, leaning on faith and holding onto hope.

    This journey is hard, but Forrest is worth it. He’s my boy. My heart. My gift from God.

    From our lavender world of grace — we’re holding onto hope and walking by faith. 💜

    On our way home from the vets office the morning after his first seizure.

    On our way home from the vets office the morning after his first seizure.