Below you’ll find the story of Cheryl, her partner, and their blind Samoyed, Rio. You’ll read about the roller coaster ride they were on with Rio’s unrelenting glaucoma. You’ll learn that people don’t always react in the same way to a dog’s blindness. And you’ll find a story of inspiration. Because you know what? Blind dogs are pretty darn amazing.
Here’s Rio’s story in Cheryl’s own words:
The Roller Coaster Begins…
In mid-March 2014, our Samoyed, Rio came in from playing in the yard and we noticed that she was squinting her left eye a bit. I checked for scratches, ulcers and foreign objects, but there was nothing obvious.
By that evening, when it still clearly bothered her, we took her to the emergency clinic. By then, it was a bit red but the vet found nothing, so she prescribed antibiotic drops and sent us home.
That night, Rio was clearly in pain and distress, pacing and not settling, despite seeming exhausted. We knew something was terribly wrong.
In the morning, we took her to our regular vet, who asked whether the emergency vet had done a pressure test. We said ‘no’, so he proceeded to do one and immediately diagnosed glaucoma. He prescribed drops and rushed us out the door to the pharmacy. The roller coaster had started.
Canine Glaucoma, The Nasty Beast…
We gave her the drops and got on the internet, to learn about glaucoma (a vastly-different disease from the human form), which is very painful and, inevitably, results in blindness. We didn’t want to wait the suggested week, to have a follow-up pressure test done, so we requested an emergency referral to an ophthalmologist, several hours away, including a ferry trip.
The specialist had equipment which allowed her to determine that Rio had primary glaucoma, meaning it was hereditary and that her other eye would develop it, too.
It was all happening very fast and we wanted to do everything we could to keep her vision, for as long as possible. We were told that there had been no damage to her optic nerve, so she was a prime candidate for laser ablation surgery, to kill most of the cells that produce the fluid that was building up and causing pressure. Two days later, we were a long way from home, at a different clinic (equipped to do the laser), and she was in surgery.
The surgery only worked for two months, before her pressure started to rise, again, so her painful eye had to go. We decided to have an evisceration done, meaning the contents of her eye were removed and a silicone ball was inserted inside the shell, so back we went to the first ophthalmologist.
Blind-Proofing and Training Begins…
As Rio recovered, we started teaching her new words, to guide her. We didn’t know how much time we had, before her other eye would develop glaucoma, and we wanted to prepare. We added a railing to the low deck, made sure there were no low branches that could poke her eyes and we stopped turning the outside light on, at night, so she could get used to the darkness.
Inside, we made sure we didn’t leave stuff lying around, doors partway closed, the dishwasher door open, or drawers pulled out…even briefly.
Rio knew the house and yard, so I honestly wasn’t worried about how she would get around. I once had an older dog develop age-related cataracts and after witnessing how well he adjusted to very limited sight, I had faith that Rio would be fine. My partner (who had her from puppyhood) was having more trouble with it, as it was happening at an already-stressful time. The lack of any control over the eventual outcome was pretty tough to bear.
Here’s The Hardest Part Of Dealing With Canine Glaucoma…
The hardest part was seeing Rio in pain…or wondering if she was. It was worrying about whether she would have a pressure spike, or if she would suddenly be in the position of needing surgery, on a weekend, when the ophthalmologist was closed (and several hours away).
Everybody deals with these things differently; I don’t recall ever feeling like crying for Rio, but my partner was heartbroken and, initially, was a bit distant from her. Post-surgery, the site isn’t pretty, so that added another element. It was extremely difficult to see the hurt and sadness about it, but I felt that time would eventually heal that.
I medicated Rio, cleaned her surgery site, bonded with her over warm compresses and later encouraged my partner to sit with her, hold the compress and just be with and love her.
And Finally, Relief That It’s Over…
Five months after Rio’s first evisceration, the pressure in her remaining eye was uncontrollable and the same surgery was done. By that time, there was actually some sense of relief that it was over. The stress had been exhausting; we could now move forward and embrace our new ‘normal’. Throughout the whole thing, we kept reminding ourselves that we were so grateful it was not life-threatening and we were now on the other side of it.
In the sixteen months since, Rio has amazed us. It took some recovery time, a complication and infection, but with those and, most-importantly, the pain out of the way, she eventually played again, loves her toys, is as stubborn and determined as she ever was and is phenomenal at mapping and navigating. We have since adopted a cat, moved to a larger house (with a complicated yard) and often feel that not much is different.
New habits have become the norm, such as protectively placing a hand over the corner of a cupboard door, as it’s opened, or sub-consciously raising a leg up to stop her from walking into the cat, telling her “careful”, or reaching down to gently redirect her…they’re largely second-nature, now.
…and sometimes, we forget she’s blind and we let her walk into a tree. It happens, but Rio shakes it off and moves on. I believe THAT is something we could all learn from our dogs!
Wise Words To Those With Blind Dogs…
If your dog is blind (or is going blind) please know that, to a dog, it is not the end of the world, as we might feel if we lost our vision. It’s ok to grieve, to cry, to be angry… It’s also incredibly important to not have our grief hold them back and make them think that something is wrong. Do it away from them, patiently encourage them to do the things they love and let them show you how amazingly-resilient they are. Act “as if” everything is ok and soon, it won’t even be an act. Be prepared for your dog to adjust more quickly than you do!
