Max will learn to compensate for lack of vision

I’ve been carefully medicating the eye in hospital every other day

Idon’t often write sequels, but I think one is in order this week. I kind of left everyone hanging with regards to my little friend Max and many people have been asking how he made out.

In case you don’t remember, the little pug was having difficulty with a corneal ulcer. To protect the eye and promote healing, I had temporarily sutured the lids of that eye closed, and because his other eye was underdeveloped from birth, he was temporarily blind. We all had our fingers crossed and said some prayers that the wounded eye would heal OK, and Max would once again watch the leaves blow and chase them in the yard.

In the few days leading up to Max’s moment of truth, he actually seemed comfortable and appeared to be adapting to his lack of vision. Max is one tough little guy and seemed to be taking everything in stride. He knew his people were there for him, to help him down the stairs, and to keep his new dark environment safe for him, and that feeling of trust surely helped him to adjust. But that eye couldn’t remain sewn closed forever and earlier this week he came in to have the sutures removed and the eye assessed.

I had remained optimistic, but with a sleeping Max in front of me, and the eyelid sutures carefully removed to expose the eye, I knew the eye had to go. It was severely purulent, or infected, tremendously swollen and inflamed, and with the large perforated corneal ulcer right in the centre of his eye, there really was no alternative.

I couldn’t understand why Max had been acting comfortable, with his eye in that state, but that was just a testament to his good nature.

I made the phone call first, to talk to his people, as I wasn’t going to proceed until I spoke with them. It would have been an easy call had Max’s other eye been healthy, but we knew by removing his diseased and ruptured eye, Max’s temporary blindness would become permanent. As sad as this appeared, I couldn’t help feel some happiness and I tried to share that optimism with his family.

Little Max had already been learning to navigate and cope with his loss of vision and by removing his painful globe I would only be helping his life become more comfortable. And with a wonderful family to care for him, I had absolutely no reservations that Max would be fine and could live a long, and very full life.

I told Max’s people about my own cat, Sergeant Pepper, who lived completely blind for nearly half his life as a result of retinal disease. Sergeant Pepper even enjoyed the outdoors, happy to feel the sunshine on his body and the breeze in his whiskers. His other senses took over and no one who visited ever realized he was blind.

I knew Max was already starting to compensate in the same manner. Max might never see the leaves blow again, but he could still hear them and feel them, and I bet he’ll even chase them.

Some tears were shed as I sent little Max home that evening, eye removed and lids permanently sutured closed, but I know he’s going to be happy, and we can all feel happy about that.

Thanks for reading. Adopt, neuter and spay… save a life every day.