My very first dog was a beautiful Border Collie/American Eskimo mix. I owned him when I lived down south. One night I was out walking him when he took off out of his collar. I ran through the city chasing him and when we got home I put him in the bathroom to calm down while I calmed down. Heard a noise and went in the bathroom to find him having a seizure, head banging the bathtub. It scared the crap out of me and I always felt so guilty. He was re-homed because I couldn't take care of him. I heard his new owner loved him so much she would carry him across mud puddles. I was happy he had a new happy home but to this day I refuse to do much to punish an animal, always believing that somehow I caused that seizure.
Hail Gunther 7-2-2013
If at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you ever tried.