Blind Hope: An Unwanted Dog & the Woman She Rescued (17 page)

For reasons known only to Kent, this simple action derailed his retreat to his room. Stopping, Kent looked down at Mia, perhaps staring at her blindness, her weakness. He knelt on the stair next to the sightless dog and studied her in the stillness. As if pulled by an unseen force, his hand moved toward her, and he gently stroked her back. Laurie watched from her vantage point and witnessed the unfolding of an answer to her prayer. Mia, without fanfare, began to dismantle Kent’s defensive armor.

Like a timid mouse stealing out of the darkness for crumbs,
Kent made hushed sojourns down the stairs to find Mia. Each visit was the same. Kent soundlessly emerged from the shadows, knelt beside Mia to run his hand across the top of her head, and then disappeared back into the darkness.

The full impact Mia had had on Kent’s heart wasn’t revealed until several weeks later. Shelly again asked Laurie to spend the afternoon with the twins while she worked to meet a thesis deadline. In an effort to get the kids out of the house, to move, to breathe fresh air, Laurie offered to take them to Tumalo Reservoir. Anna’s grin gave her answer, but Kent averted his eyes, as usual, and wouldn’t respond to her invitation.

Laurie told him, “Mia’s waiting in the car. She’s coming with us.”

Kent looked out the window, trying to see Mia. He disappeared for a moment and then reappeared, with the obvious addition of a jacket. He brushed passed Laurie without a glance and climbed into the backseat of her Olds Bravada, next to Mia.

Once at the reservoir, Laurie instructed the kids to do silly things so she could photograph them and tape up the resulting pictures around their home in an attempt to cheer up their mom. Given permission to goof off, the twins jumped over sage, made silly faces, and performed wobbly cartwheels. Mia also joined in on the fun. In a version of canine tag, Mia would run ahead of the kids and then bound back to them. She would
wiggle nose to tail and jump around them in crazy leaps and then run ahead again. Anna and Kent delighted in Mia’s playing with them. Every time she circled the twins with her antics, Anna couldn’t contain her laughter.

Laurie was grateful that Kent seemed to be having fun even though he scarcely acknowledged her. Throughout the day, he remained determined not to look at her. It was clear that he was still uncomfortable with her and didn’t like it when she directed questions his way. Choosing not to force a friendship, Laurie allowed the day to simply unfold. She hoped all their comical behavior would shake Kent loose and help him relax in her presence.

When the sun dipped low, the temperature followed. The kids raced back with Mia to Laurie’s car and dove into its relative shelter before the cold could follow them. Laurie could hear muffled commotion from the backseat. She glanced up in her rearview mirror and saw Kent guiding Mia to sit next to him. Laurie smiled; her dog could go where she could not. Brick by brick, Mia was building a foundation of trust in Kent’s heart.

Laurie drove the kids home and took them inside. She listened with delight as Anna recounted their adventures to Shelly. Laurie was uncertain of the impact of the day on Kent until she said it was time for her to go.

Kent’s strong response surprised Laurie. He suddenly turned toward her and cried, “No!”

He ran past Laurie to Mia and quickly went down on his knees and hugged her with a tender squeeze. Looking only at Mia, he said, “I’m not ready for you to go yet.”

Then he did it. With eyebrows pressed together—pleading—Kent turned and looked directly at Laurie. For the first time ever.

Laurie couldn’t hold inside what brimmed over in her heart; she smiled at him. And then, almost imperceptibly, the corners of his mouth turned up in response. Kent smiled back. In that instant, a fragile bridge of trust spanned the distance between them. A bridge of trust … that Mia had built.

“Kim, I had been trying for months, but Mia did it! My little blind dog was the one who saw the way into that boy’s closed heart. She opened the door of friendship between Kent and me. He’s a completely changed boy! When I take Mia over for a visit, the moment he sees her, his face lights up with joy. Then he drops to one knee and lets her lick his entire face! I’m not sure whether to rejoice with him or gag for him. It’s the sweetest, grossest thing!” She laughed at the mental image. “Yet Kent doesn’t seem to mind a bit.”

Who would have thought a blind dog could reach into a boy’s prison and love him back to life?

I shook my head in acknowledgment. “Sweet Mia. How remarkable that your lovable, blind, bad-breath dog could go where no one else was allowed.”

Laurie nodded. “It’s incredible to me that Mia has unlocked Kent’s heart. He’s so much more alive with her than he’s ever been with me. Because of Mia, he’s a totally different kid now. Last week he came out to the ranch and loved it! His mom told me that he’s been begging her to bring him back.”

I slowed my horse and nudged her to sidestep over toward Lightfoot. I reached my hand out toward Laurie. She caught it and held on in a thoughtful moment. Releasing her hand, I looked at Laurie. “What a privilege it is to watch you become less of a receiver and more of a giver. I’m so deeply proud of you, Lou. In the few years I’ve known you, you’ve grown so much.
You’re
the one who’s the different kid now.”

M
y heart was so full I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. I looked over at Laurie. “Want to make a great day even better?” By shifting my eyes between Lightfoot and Ele, I made my message clear.

Laurie shot back an enthusiastic “You bet!” Together we seized the moment and galloped our horses with abandon down a forgotten dirt road. Cutting corners, we ducked under tree branches, dodged fallen logs, and jumped over rain runoff channels.

“Yeah!” I shouted over my shoulder as we thundered toward the direction of home, a half-dozen miles away. We approached the base of a steep incline and coaxed our energized horses down into a fast walk. When we neared the bottom of
the hill, I gave quick instructions to Laurie. “Reach halfway up Lightfoot’s neck and grab a handful of mane. I want you to lean forward and stand up in the stirrups and let him do his job. We’ll go first to show you what I mean.”

Like a four-legged freight train, Ele bounded up the hill in a series of powerful leaps. Once we reached the top of the ridge, I sat back down in my saddle. I dropped my reins and lowered my hands to rub both sides of my mare’s neck in appreciation of a job well done.

From below, Laurie encouraged Lightfoot, and her voice carried up to me. “Good boy, good boy! You’re amazing!” In an instant they popped over the top as if it were little more than a speed bump.

“Arabians! What’s not to love?” I called out in pure admiration.

Once on top of the crest, we picked our way through a jumble of black lava rock. While our horses walked head to tail, I pointed out the panoramic view to the east. Geology intrigues me, so I took the moment to explain to Laurie how we were actually riding on the high side of a fault plane.

“All of Central Oregon is volcanic in origin and has been shaped by unique forces. See those black outcroppings of rock? They’re the terminuses, the ends of some very old lava flows, which are primarily basalt, one of the heaviest stones on earth.”

Laurie, who was still riding behind me, was silent. I wondered if I was boring her with my impromptu geology babble and swung around in my saddle to check on her.

She smiled at me and then glanced in the direction of the lava features I had just pointed out. Her expression was pensive, telling me that although she was looking at the phenomenon, she was not really seeing it. I could tell her mind was wandering, instead, in a wilderness of consideration.

Without thought, I slowed my horse’s pace. “What is it?”

A surge of sadness clouded Laurie’s eyes. “I just want to be there for her, you know? The road that awaits Mia is going to be far less kind than what she’s already been through.” Laurie’s voice caught as her expression began to crumple.

I asked Ele to halt. Lightfoot sensed what he needed to do and stopped at my mare’s shoulder. “Oh, Lou, you’ve given Mia such a wonderful end to her life. No matter what might lie ahead, she’s secure in the loving home you’ve given her. Because of you, she’ll know nothing but love right up until the very end. And that, my sweet girl, is a good end.”

Laurie’s gaze did not return to mine. Still looking away, she fought to control her emotions.

I held my horse steady next to Lightfoot. “You know that Dr. Shawn and I are friends, right?”

She sniffed and then nodded.

“He’s told me more than once how incredibly fortunate Mia is that you adopted her. She would’ve died long ago had you not intervened. He also said he knows of few others who would’ve done what you’re doing for Mia. He told me that nobody could do better for her than you have.”

She raised one hand to her face and wept.

There, on top of a windswept ridge, two horses stood close to bear their riders even closer. A cold wind blew around us. I pulled up my fleece collar and buttoned my black Carhartt coat around it. It was hard to see my friend’s heart break. Both of us knew that when Mia’s time came, it would be a very difficult good-bye.

Laurie pulled one of her sleeves from under her coat and dried her eyes. She drew several deep breaths before she spoke again. “I feel like my whole life has been so mixed up, so about me. And then Mia came. In her unique way, she has helped me to see that my life is like a puzzle. Each piece by itself is confusing, but when fitted together into the bigger picture, there’s a greater purpose. I can see that in my lame attempt to insulate myself from pain, I’ve also unintentionally isolated myself from really knowing love. In my need for self-protection, I’ve pulled so far back from anything that could emotionally challenge me to grow that I compromised growing altogether.”

Laurie worked to push her damp sleeve back up under her
coat. “I didn’t realize just how shut down I’d become until a little blind dog demonstrated how much more satisfying it is to live an honest and open life.”