…and mine.
They say you will cope. They say you will have a happy further life. They say that dogs don’t mind. They say dogs don’t make as much of it as humans do. They say that you will compensate with your other senses. That’s what they say.
But what I see is the sadness in your eyes. They used to sparkle and twinkle. They used to tell me that I was your favourite human, that you trusted me completely. They also told me when you needed me. For help, support, fun, play. They could tell a whole story.
But now I see a blank. A meaningless stare, gazing right in front of you, not seeing me anymore. You used to look me right in the eye. Now you look at where my voice is coming from. Same difference you might think, no it’s not…
And although dogs can’t physically cry, I see tears. Tears in those once so pretty eyes. And that makes me cry too.
Why? God knows we’ve done everything in our power to safeguard your eyesight. Why didn’t it work out for you? Could I have done more? Blaming myself doesn’t help in any way. Not you, not me. But it’s part of the many emotions I go through when thinking of your blindness, dear Largo. And longtime ago I learnt not to run or hide from my emotions.
But the strongest of my emotions in this, is my love for you. And that will pull us through. Together. We’ll make it. And I hope you can still have that happy life, as they say. In time, not yet. I can see that too in your eyes
For now, there is sadness there, and wondering. Wondering what is happening to you, panic even sometimes. Your behaviour changes, threading carefully most of the time. Things you did before, you don’t do them anymore. Like jumping on the couch. You tend to sleep more, yes, even more. You don’t know yet how to ask for our help to pick you up to get on that couch again. But you will learn, that we know. We will help you my dearest friend.
And once you will cope, and we will make sure your life will be happy again. And one day, I’m sure this day will come, we’ll laugh again at your silly cocker moves. Because we love you to pieces.
To be blind is not miserable; not to be able to bear blindness, that is miserable – John Milton
Till next time. M. 🐾
Chaotic Perfectionist meets Dancing with Yarn 