A blind dog makes life interesting.
I first wrote about our dog Suzie going blind eighteen months ago when we were first struggling with what it meant. I
Two years later, I thought I’d write more about what we have learned.
Not much.
We’re far more careful about potential hazards when walking her. She hasn’t run into anything on our watch in a long time.
She, however, continues to launch herself, nose first, into all sorts of things–though it’s usually a wall or the screen door.
Blind dog screen door issues
Speaking of the screen door, the Gordon Setter who patiently waited for the butler/me to open the screen for nine years now opens it herself.
She doesn’t even ask anymore, just approaches the slider and pushes the screen out of the way.
(If only she’d learn to close it again!).
She’s also decided that with her handicap, she is entitled to lounge on the new living room rug at will.
She goes up there by herself–before she only went if invited–and spends many afternoons sleeping on the floor rather than in her big soft plushy dog bed downstairs.
As long as she doesn’t bang into anything important (breakables no longer adorn the end tables), we’ve decided to let her enjoy that pleasure.
My husband works nearby most days, and, really, she’s just keeping him company.
Clever Gordon Setters
Gordon Setters are very clever dogs–“people in human suits,” my friend Cathleen Jones explains. (Two of Suzie’s cousins live at the Jones house).
They believe in keeping their options open and working any available angle. This is why we remain vigilant–cat food high, trash can closed, garden gate shut.
Suzie spends most days lying in the sun or vegging on her bed, but she does perk up when something interesting arises.
In her heyday, Suzie was known as a “barker.” The neighbors and postal employees all refered to her as “the black dog who barks on the deck.”
Once blindness set in, however, she went mute. We rarely heard anything more than a moan. We thought she was shutting down, no longer engaged in life.
We were wrong.
Squirrel!
It took a squirrel to prove it.
The barking shocked, it was so unusual, and we hurried to the window. Suzie spun around and around as a squirrel jumped from the Japanese maple to the roof and back again–chittering as it went.
She’s never been fond of squirrels.
Recently I heard similar barking and watched my dog run the length of the wood fence.
My blind dog.
Running.
A squirrel sped along the fence top–possibly cheering her on.
Suzie skidded to a stop before the ceonothus bush and looked triumphant even though the racuous squirrel got away.
We might have chided that squirrel for cruelty, if we hadn’t seen the sheer bliss on our dog’s now white muzzle.
Obviously, she loved feeling the freedom to run.
Every day life with a blind dog
So we continue, walking her around the lake where she feels free to hurry on the end of a leash.We click our fingers and help her find her way. We’re careful with the treats and warn the adorable grandchildren to let her know they’re there.
She’s now got steps up into the car and she scrambles just fine. Given the chance, she’ll stick her head out the window and feel the breeze blowing her ears back.
Maybe life isn’t as exciting as it used to be, but it’s good.
And we’re all thankful.
Even with a handicap, our dog shows us daily the satisfaction of being with the people you love–no matter what.
Some days I think she sees far better than many people whose eyes work.
Which makes me wonder–can a handicap really be considered cruel if it brings bliss as well?
I hope those who love us will also recognize that life’s pleasures don’t end when our vision clouds and we slow down. Instead, we’ll luxuriate in having time to enjoy our memories.
Amen.
Did you ever read Blind Hope by Kim Meeder? I didn’t care for all of the book (not my style of writing), but I was fascinated by her stories of living with a blind dog. My doxie–who sees fine–often seems oblivious to squirrels or rabbits in our yard until she gets a whiff of them. Then watch out!
I haven’t read Kim Meeder’s book, though I did read a couple others when Suzie was diagnosed. We needed to figure out how to keep her safe and happy in the house. She was fine as long as no adorable grandchildren were moving furniture or leaving toys–or once, just standing there when Suzie walked into her! We had a squirrel in the back yard who used to tease Suzie, long after she was blind, and that simply wasn’t fair.