Brave Dog

Rich and I are dog lovers. Rich has had a number of dogs over the years, I can't really name them all. Since I have known him he has had a dog named Maci.

Maci, the 65 pound black lab mixed breed, became blind several years ago. Her eyesight began to fade gradually, it took about 2 years, until she became completely blind. Whatever caused her blindness made her eyes start to lighten and eventually her eyeballs became white. It freaked out the little kids when they saw her, and the kids would always say in a scaredy voice, What's wrong with her eyes? We answered them saying simply, she's blind, she can't see. Then, to the kids, she became not scary, but, aw, poor doggie.

Maci was not bothered by her blindness. It came on so gradually, she accustomed herself to the blindness as gradually as it happened to her. She would still retrieve the newspaper, since it was always in about the same spot on the driveway at home. It just took a little extra sniffing to find it. Bringing the paper in, in the morning, was the most important job and duty in life for our dogs Dolly and Maci, and they shared the responsibility. The mornings when they woke up together, at paper fetching time, they would both run boldly in a race to get there first to where the paper would be. Sometimes, if they were at my house, Maci would get disoriented and wander off course, or she would have to take a detour around a car in the driveway. Listening for her beacon, Dolly, Maci would remain in hot pursuit of that gold ring, the newspaper. These times, Dolly would run out and pounce on the paper so that Maci could hear where it was, and maybe or maybe not Dolly might walk away from it and let Maci bring it in. If Dolly would not hand it over, be aware that Macie seldom would take no for an answer and would valiantly wrestle it away from Dolly. Maci could pick up the heaviest and thickest of Sunday newspapers, no paper would ever be too much of a burden for her.


Maci would still play ball, the sound of it rolling or bouncing on the floor, or a tapping of your toe behind it, was all she needed to locate it. Maci was brave, running full speed alongside Dolly, flank to flank, in the game of catch trying to get to the ball first, or to get it away from Dolly. Blindness never, ever, changed the joy she found in the game.

Maci, the kind of dog that if you pet her for even a few seconds, will put one foot up on your lap, pet pet, the other foot comes up, pet pet, a hind leg up on the chair, pet pet, the other hind leg hitching up, so that within not even minutes this dog would be blissfully sitting on your lap, tail wagging, head back, tongue lagging, in rapture.

Maci loved bunny chasing, and I think that is the only thing she couldn't do after the blindness set in.

Maci adapted. Maci loved her people. Maci played. Maci enjoyed her life. Maci was brave, blindness didn't change anything about her. Maci was happy and healthy for many years, robust and always hungry. Maci was never aw, poor doggie.

Maci changed this past week.

Maci died peacefully at home yesterday, on the first full day of Spring, March 21, 2008.