One minute our dog Razzle was standing excitedly in the driveway, eyeing the door to the pickup, knowing it was bound to eventually open and he’d get to go for a ride. A minute later I turned around and Razzle was lying on the lawn, writhing like a trout going through its first catch-and-release experience.

My first thought was “how about that, Razzle has something in common with Chief Justice John Roberts of the United States Supreme Court.” He was experiencing a seizure.

I’m amazed to have a dog that shares a malady with the Chief Justice. It makes him (John Roberts) seem more human. He was so young, so handsome, so sure of himself, that a little seizure might make him more humble and friendly, like Razzle. And from what I can tell, the seizures do little harm.

My wife took Razzle to the vet once and asked about his seizures. The vet couldn’t tell her anything. Who can figure out a dog’s brain? “I don’t know,” said the vet.

The papers say the Chief Justice was taken to a hospital after his episode. The doctors diagnosed his problem as a benign idiopathic seizure, which, translated, means they don’t know either, but since they concocted a fancy name for it they can send a huge bill to the taxpapers who pay for the conservative Chief Justice’s socialized medical care. We only had to pay forty bucks to hear the vet admit he didn’t know anything about Razzle’s seizure. To save money, Congress should look into buying veterinarian insurance for all the Supreme Court justices.

I couldn’t let Razzle lie there and twitch. What would the neighbors think? So I set him beside me in the pickup and we headed for one of his favorite places, the dump. He likes any place where there are people in the window. The dump. The ferry dock. The bank. Because they all give him a dog biscuit. On the way he likes to hum, “How much is that person in the window . . .” It’s ironic that so many people can now be found where dogs used to be.

It’s a long drive to the landfill, and along the way the dog stopped twitching. But he remained motionless and glum. He was probably afraid to move. But as we neared the dump he perked up, sensing what was coming.

When he saw the nice person in the window who was weighing my trash-laden truck on the scale, Razzle bounded up, shook himself off, and gave the person his most appealing look. Sure enough, he got his treat, which caused him to jump for joy. It’s been over a week and Razzle has been just fine. He’s totally forgotten about his seizure.

As for Chief Justice John Roberts, he’s been displaced in the news by one tragedy after another. But he must be worried. Who wouldn’t be? Since the doctors don’t know anything, somebody should throw him a dog biscuit.