LESSONS FROM A RAT TERRIER
Our dog, Scout, went blind at fourteen. The lenses of his eyes became milky white with cataracts. He walked into walls. Sometimes he could be found standing silently, nose to the corner of the room like he was in a self-imposed time out. He walked with a funky little joggle because one hind leg was enlarged with an inoperable tumor. The other hind leg had arthritis. He didn’t hear well. When I whistled for him, he headed in the opposite direction and ran in circles around the house trying to locate me. When food was dropped in front of him, he didn’t seem to see or smell it. To top it off, he lost some teeth and had stinky gingivitis fish breath. I would say it sucks to get old, yet Scout, our spunky little rat terrier, still had a zest for life and the heart of a young pup, not allowing his pain or loss of sight to keep him from living his “best life.”
I have learned a lot about living and aging from this little adventurous, independent warrior dog. He showed me that though life’s journey may lead you through unexpected chronic illness or loss, you still get up in the morning, stretch in a downward dog facing position, do the reverse upward facing dog stretch, shake your little bootie, and go on to do your business. Despite loss of vision, the pain in your hips or your feet, you grit what’s left of your teeth, and keep on moving. Even if you don’t see the wall and walk smack into it, hit your nose on the furniture, or miss a step and fall off the curb, you get back up and go forward. You love those around you unconditionally, and if by accident you get stepped on, you forgive and still run to the door to welcome them home and offer your love. That is a tough lesson, and I can’t say I have done as well as Scout in giving that kind of unconditional love to those who may have “stepped” on me.
I tried to pen Scout in when he went blind, thinking I was doing him a favor to shrink the borders of his area so he could navigate safely, but he knocked all the baby gates down. After a few repetitions of this, I gave up and let him have free range of the house. It meant sacrificing the carpet, which he occasionally mistook for grass. He managed to still get around the house. He invented a new method for getting down the stairs, front legs first, then bottom awkwardly following. Sometimes it worked and other times it didn’t. Often, he tumbled and fell headlong down the stairs. He looked surprised and embarrassed when he hit the floor or slammed into the wall, but he was not afraid to get up and try again.
One day while at work, I received a text from my next-door neighbor.
“Hey, Lauri, Scout’s in my kitchen.”
“What? What’s he doing there? How’d he get in YOUR house?” I texted back.
“Well, according to my mom, he went under your fence, through our screened patio doggy door, then into our house doggy door, and into the kitchen. He also ate all our dog’s food, while our dog watched from his crate!”
“OMG, how long has he been doing this?”
“I don’t know, a few weeks maybe?”
“You know he’s blind, right?!”
“You’re kidding! LOL!”
“I noticed that he had put on some weight lately!”
“I carried him back to your backyard, but he’s right back in my kitchen again…”
“Ok, I’ll be right over!”
l continued to be inspired by our little terrier’s resilience, spunk, and tenacity, and challenged by his life lessons on aging and making the most of each day, maybe not so gracefully, but cheerfully.
*Lauri Cruver Cherian copyright 2021 Isn’t This Fun?
