Love is Blind

I came from an animal loving family. I had been around all kinds of animals growing up. Dogs, cats, horses, goats, chickens, cows, you name it. I wouldn't call myself a country bumpkin, but I lived in that little part of suburbia that fit right between the city and the farm. So when it came time for me to go to college in Los Angeles and leave my childhood pets at home across the country it wouldn't come as much of a surprise that I didn't take it too well. Animals had been one of my main coping mechanisms for my mental illness for years, and here I was, in a completely new environment, on my own for the first time in my life, and not a dog, cat, or hamster in sight. Don't get me wrong, I was excited to start this new part of my life and get a degree in an industry I love, but even with roommates and classmates and new friends, I felt unbelievably lonely.

I moved off campus after my third semester of college. It was cheaper than campus housing, and I was ready to take that next step into adulthood. My roommate at the time ended up getting a dog, and I think that triggered something in me. I needed something to look after. Something to come home to at the end of the day. I knew it was a big decision, but I figured it couldn't hurt to keep my eyes open. I came up with a list of requirements.

Number 1: It had to be a girl.

This could sound like a weird requirement, but I had seen the way my roommate's dog marked things around the house. That's something I had seen in male dogs many times over the years, and it was something I just wasn't ready to deal with. I could do accidents no problem, but I knew I wouldn't have the patience for it. Especially with another male dog in the apartment for competition.

Number 2: It had to be hypoallergenic.

Allergies run in my family, and while I had never had any reaction to cats or dogs, my mother and sister did. Even though I was thousands of miles away from them, I wanted them to be able to enjoy my dog when I visited. As it turns out, I developed allergies to certain dogs in early 2020 to my great frustration.

Number 3: It had to be a rescue.

I had worked with several rescues through middle school and high school, and I personally can not support breeders after the things I had seen. You can find dogs of any breed, sex, age, and temperament at a shelter or rescue. It might take more time to find what you need, but the results are worth it.

Number 4: It had to be an adult.

I had helped raise/train my two childhood dogs, and while I enjoyed it, I knew I would not have the time or energy to do that while being a full time college student. I wanted a mature dog, maybe around 8-10 that would be less likely to be adopted in the first place due to its age.

And that was basically the list. I spent my fourth semester of college keeping my eyes open for the perfect dog. I didn't really have any luck. But that was alright. At the end of the semester I planed to visit my family back on the east coast. I checked a rescue website on a whim for dogs in the area that needed to find families. That's when I saw her.

She was a 12 year old cockapoo in New York named Lucky. Her family couldn't keep her anymore and they were looking for someone who would be willing to take her and give her a good home so she wouldn't have to go to a shelter. They wanted to avoid this at all costs because they were afraid she wouldn't get adopted, not only due to her age, but because she was blind.

She was a little older than I had been looking for, and I hadn't planned on taking in a special needs dog, but something about her picture was so sweet that I convinced my dad to make the three hour drive to go meet her. And let me tell you, it was love at first sight.

She was such a sweetheart. I knew within moments that she was my dog. My dad convinced me to think it over for a night and sleep on it. He asked me the important questions. Was I ready for a senior dog? Would I be able to handle a blind dog on top of college? Did I have enough money for medical expenses (even though we both knew if there was an emergency that they would help. We love our dogs like children in this family.) and regular vet bills, and so on? But the next day we drove back up to get her. I got her registered as my ESA, (which was honestly the whole point of me getting a pet, as I really needed a reason to get up in the morning in the first place.) and a few days later she was on the plane with my, flying back to LA, no longer just Lucky, but my lucky little Carrie-Ann.

I was worried about her getting used to her new life with me. Would she adjust? Would she miss her old family? Would she be okay while I was in classes? Would she be okay with me calling her a new name/ more than one name? But she took to everything with a wagging tail and a smile. She fell right into the routine, and she took to me like we had been together forever. She answered to both her old and new name (which had been a big concern of mine) along with all the little nicknames I gave her. She learned a few bad habits from my roommates dog, but overall, she was well behaved. She loved cuddling, naps, and more than anything, food. And not having her sight did not slow her down at all. There were moments that I would absolutely forget that she was blind. She loved to climb and jump on beds and seats. We went hiking, and she took to the climbs like a little mountain goat. You would never be able to guess her age by watching her. She had the energy of a puppy with the maturity of an adult dog.

I would get comments a lot about what a good person I was for taking her in. How it must be so hard taking care of a disabled old dog while still being a college student. But the thing is, it wasn't. I didn't feel special, or like some kind of super student. I just felt like any other college kid who got a pet. It wasn't unheard of. But even then, I'll admit that it had its challenges.

Carrie didn't act like a senior dog, but she did have a few health problems that needed attention. She needed special food for her kidneys, and special drops for her eyes. We went to pet specialists for these, and while they were a little pricey, I had prepared. I had been saving up for this, and I was ready. Whenever I moved, I made sure to give her time to get used to her new environments. I was patient with her when she had accidents, and I had cleaning supplies and mats ready for her. I will admit, I did get lucky when I started dating my partner. He fell for her hard, and volunteered to help with her care whenever he was over. He would take her out for me when I had late classes and he was off, and he was there for both of us during the great thumbtack incident.

I don't know what came over her, but this dumb ass decided it would be a good idea to eat over 20 thumbtacks. He took the three of us straight to the vet and held me while I cried, convinced that my dog was going to die. Surprise, she didn't. And about $3000 later she was back at home with both of us getting cuddles and love. Soon after, we all moved in together. I had graduated college just in time.

When she was 14, Carrie was diagnosed with kidney cancer. I was determined to do whatever I could to help her get rid of it, and my family was onboard. We did thousands of dollars worth of tests before starting chemo. She was such a good sport about it. But that last year it was like she aged all at once. She slept more and her arthritis really started acting up. And the chemo was rough on her. We threw her a Quince for her 15th birthday. I had always wanted to throw her a sweet 16, but I was worried she wouldn't make it.

In November, the vet told us the cancer had stoped spreading. The chemo seemed to be working. We were so excited. We went home to visit my family for an early Christmas and share the good news. She was spoiled rotten. But around this same time, she started losing her appetite. Food was always her number one motivator. She was a grade A beggar. She would jump on you and climb on you to try and get your food. There was no eating in peace with Carrie around. But that began to change.

I'm not going to get into it too much, because even after over a year it is hard to talk about, but in January of 2020 we had to make the decision to put Carrie down. The vets and specialists did everything they could, but at that point, she was just suffering. It happened at home after a nice day at the park. My mom flew in from Pennsylvania to be there for us.

Carrie let my partner and I know that it was her time. She used the last of her strength to kiss us both goodbye. We were a month away from three years together, but somehow, she fit a lifetime of love into that short amount of time.

Hardly a day goes by where my partner and I don't say we miss her. We laugh and cry about the memories. But I can say without a doubt that it was all worth it. Senior dogs have so much love to give, and so much life in them. And I don't doubt for a second that my little blind dog could see exactly how much we loved her.

Our first Christmas together, my partner gifted me a necklace. It is one of my most cherished pieces, and I rarely take it off. It is an etching of our Carrie, and on the back, it reads "Love is Blind"

I miss my baby girl so much. But I know that when we are ready to adopt another dog, she will have prepared us for anything. And I already let my partner know that we will be keeping our eyes open for old, blind cockapoos from now on.