After 15 minutes of hard playing, Olivia and Griffin passed out and didn't even budge until the afternoon. Even Buddha was pretty exhausted.
In the afternoon, we took them out again, and once again, they played until they nearly fell over.
By dinnertime, Griffin hadn't moved from the couch for a few hours and when I coaxed him into the kitchen for dinner, he didn't appear to be able to move his back legs. He just sort of army crawled to his food dish and ate sitting down.
His little fat bulldog butt stayed anchored to the floor and he alternated between spinning like a top and collapsing dramatically when we called him to move. I lifted him to his feet, but when I let go, he toppled right over.
My first instinct was to rush him to the emergency vet (because with Griffin, we are always on the verge of a trip to the emergency vet), but 2 feet of snow behind my garage forced me to really think it through and stay calm. He was eating, drinking and going to the bathroom normally. I gently pressed, moved and bent his legs and he didn't yelp or react at all (he didn't seem to be in pain). He didn't appear to have any other symptoms whatsoever. So I gave him a baby aspirin and we spent the evening carrying him everywhere, holding him up when he went outside and cooing over every noise he made. Worried as I was, he appeared to be enjoying himself immensely.
With a special needs bulldog, the next crisis is around every corner, and thus, I have a tendency to react quickly, dramatically and most often by throwing piles of money at my vet. Mother Nature prevented me from doing that this time, and luckily, Griffin spent the night soaking in the spotlight as center of attention and being waited on by all of us.
He's only 2 years old, I hope we aren't there yet. I'll keep my eye on him for a few days and we'll see...