Blind Hope: An Unwanted Dog & the Woman She Rescued (8 page)

Understanding lit up Laurie’s face. “Yes! Because of that, I no longer view my recovering dog as a homely creature that deserves my pity because she was rejected. Instead, I see her through a heart that is being changed by authentic love. I think it’s because of her honest love for me that I no longer notice her imperfections. In my eyes she has become beautiful.”

Laurie’s words came quickly, energized by her rising enthusiasm.

“Although her outside has changed very little, my inside is being completely renewed. Mia isn’t lovely because she has been miraculously transformed into this world’s standard of beauty. She’s beautiful to me simply because of who she is. She is showing me how to open my heart and love others in the same way.”

Laurie nodded in apparent agreement with her own thoughts, and then her eyes focused on my face.

I lowered my bowl, letting her know she had my full attention.

True to her tender-hearted nature, Laurie’s eyes began to glisten. A weak laugh escaped her lips. “Funny how all the previous relationships in my life have not been able to teach me what real love is—until I met and really got to know this dog. Love is not something I made happen between Mia and me. It’s been like seeping water, drop by drop, moment by moment. I just fell in love with her. All her imperfections didn’t stop me from loving her. In fact, they are some of the things I have grown to love most about her.”

Laurie looked away, as if she were picturing Mia, and her expression softened. “I’m embarrassed to admit that I used to think she was ugly. The real ugly wasn’t her—it was me, my attitude.” Laurie sighed. “I look at her now and wonder, ‘Who
couldn’t
love this dog?’ She’s so cute, so sweet, so Mia.”

She laughed. “Although I must confess, I could do without the terrible breath!”

Still cupping my hot bowl, I interjected, “Your life, from the outside, seemed so good, so full of love. It’s amazing to me that it took a dog to show you how empty you really were.”

Laurie wrinkled her nose. “I really thought I knew what love was. What a joke! My version of love was so conditional, so inconsistent.” She paused. “You’re right. It was through this little dog that I began to understand how love connects our hearts. How even through sickness, frustration, expense, and stinky breath, I still love my dog.

“Humans have so many shallow ideas of love. If things aren’t pretty and perfect, we start looking elsewhere. Dogs don’t do that. They possess a level of loyalty that most people will never fully understand. I sure didn’t. It took a dog to teach me that authentic love, a love that connects hearts—even imperfect hearts—does exist.”

Laurie’s eyes sparkled.

“What else?” I asked, wanting to throw more fuel on her already blazing fire.

She picked up her bowl and, without taking a bite, plunged ahead. “Most of us have experienced love that walks away for something better when the imperfections become unbearable. But love that binds hearts and stands firm, no matter what
comes, is genuine. The best part is that anyone can find it! Mia showed me this truth because she was unlovable by many people’s standards, including my own shallow ideals, when I first met her. But now that I know her, I love her, authentically and unchangeably.”

Laurie leaned forward. “Unlike many of my two-legged acquaintances, Mia didn’t demand that I change to fit into her mold of what a real friend should be. She demonstrates that she loves me just as I am, faults and all. No matter how badly I fail her, her love never fails me. She always gives me her very best. There’s nothing I can do to stop her from wanting to be with me. She’s showing me the way of sincere love. I think my new challenge is to follow her example.”

I picked up my Mason jar of water and tipped it in Laurie’s direction in a redneck toast. “To lessons of love!”

Laurie smiled and lifted her jar to join mine. “Hear, hear!” She laughed and celebrated the moment with me by chugging a mouthful of water, then lowered her jar. “Plain and simple, my little
dog has consistently demonstrated how love is a bridge that stands firm through difficulties and connects one heart directly to another, not because of how it looks, but because of what it is.”

M
ia was not only thin, she was also sick. Besides the obvious issues of her weight, coat, and teeth, other health problems plagued her. After checking with various veterinary sources, Laurie took Mia to the Redmond Veterinary Clinic to clarify the cause of her dog’s mysterious symptoms. Laurie followed the new veterinarian’s recommendation and scheduled Mia to spend an entire day at the hospital for the most comprehensive exam they could give her.

A month later, Laurie and I had a chance to catch up on each other’s lives while driving together in my black truck to a local feed store. It was then that she told me about the follow-up appointment at the veterinary clinic to find out what was troubling her dog.

“In the waiting room, I felt like a little kid in a Norman Rockwell painting, seated on a bench with my dog at my feet. I then sat in a cheerful exam room while Mia sprawled out on the shiny floor next to me. The entire clinic smelled like strong antiseptic, and the walls were covered with informational charts and encouraging sayings. On the counter in the exam room were lots of glass jars filled with all kinds of medical supplies. One jar especially caught my eye; it was filled with dog treats. I wondered if they had a jar filled with people treats too.”

Laughing, I said, “I’m going to talk to them about that. I think they need a bucket full of M&M’S!”

“You’re right! Or at least a jug of Starbucks!”

We gave each other a rancher high-five across the cab of my truck.

Antics aside, Laurie said, “When Dr. Shawn breezed into the room, his bright, upbeat demeanor couldn’t conceal the fact that he was about to give me some very bad news.”

My heart sank. Dr. Shawn was one of the primary vets for our ranch and also a dear friend, and I knew that expression all too well. In more than a dozen years of working with our rescued horses, some critically ill, Dr. Shawn has had plenty of opportunities to use the same expression with me. I’ve come to recognize it as his “This isn’t going to be easy news to receive, so I will deliver it with as much optimism as I can” expression.
Nevertheless, I love Dr. Shawn and learned long ago to rely on his counsel.

Laurie took a deep breath, and I knew she was steeling herself to describe what followed.

Dr. Shawn began with a smile. “Mia has not been spayed.”

Laurie smiled back, puzzled by his comment. The previous owner had told her that Mia had been spayed.

“You’ll need to make an appointment to have her spayed as soon as you can fit it into your schedule.”

Laurie nodded. “Okay.”

“And Mia has some extensive dental decay that will require several extractions followed by a good teeth cleaning.”

Laurie had expected that news, but she was surprised that Mia’s tooth damage was so pervasive. Mia was also going to require an expensive brand of dog food. Laurie listened as the list grew.

“In addition, Mia is going to need insulin injections twice a day.”

“What do you mean? Insulin? Why would she need insulin?”

“Mia is suffering from an aggressive form of canine diabetes.”

Each piece of news landed like a boulder on Laurie’s heart.

“Laurie, her diabetes is severe. Mia’s developing cataracts, and she’s in the process of going blind.”

“Blind? What? My dog is going blind?” Laurie’s heart hadn’t recovered from that boulder when the next giants began to fall.

“Yes, Mia is going blind. As pressure continues to build in her eyes, there’s a strong possibility she will also need, at some point, to have her eyes removed.”

Laurie’s jaw dropped as she looked up into the vet’s face.

“There’s more,” Dr. Shawn said.

No, no, no more! Please, God, no more
. The voice in her heart begged like a pleading child.

Dr. Shawn’s voice was gentle. “Mia’s blood work and glucose curves are … well, compelling.”

Laurie’s throat tightened.
No! Please, no … Don’t use that tone
.

The vet’s voice softened noticeably. “It might not be for a while, perhaps months or even years, but her test results are conclusive. Mia … is dying.”

Laurie sat paralyzed, helpless against an unstoppable rush
of tears.
Why God? Why? Why would you allow me to fall in love with her only to take her away?

Laurie’s face dropped into her hands in an effort to stop the sobs that began churning out of her chest. Crushed by an avalanche of sudden grief, Laurie felt like she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All she could do was give in to the overwhelming weight of sorrow.

None of the jars on the counter held a cure for her breaking heart.

Dr. Shawn assured Laurie that just as with people, diabetes is serious but treatable. Mia could still have several years with a good quality of life.

“Just because Mia has a grave illness doesn’t necessarily mean she should be put down immediately. Unless, of course, she develops signs of suffering. Or if you don’t wish to pay for her continued care or be committed to administering insulin to her on a regimented basis.”

Laurie took a deep breath. Through her tears the answer came without hesitation. “I have to try.”

Her mind reeled in a myriad of directions. “If Mia is going blind, she’ll run into things. Wouldn’t that be considered pain and suffering?”

Dr. Shawn reassured Laurie with a gentle smile. “Blind people bump into things all the time. That’s how they learn to adjust
to their environment.” His smile broadened. “I may be going out on a limb here, but I’m pretty sure they’re okay with not being euthanized even though they bump their forehead or split their lip from time to time.”

Laurie relaxed. The message was loud and clear. Together, she and Dr. Shawn would seek the very best care for Mia; each would keep a watchful eye on her and monitor her progress. As long as Mia maintained a healthy and happy life, all would be well.