Legacy Writing 365:194

Back in 2000, it took us a while to figure out that our little girl dachshund Stevie had gone blind. That was because she adapted so well that we missed all the signs until one day when our friend Amy came over. She knocked and both dogs ran to the door barking. But even after Amy came inside, Stevie continued to face the door and bark. It hit me all at once that her vision must be wonky, and when I started testing her, I realized she might be completely blind. A visit to the vet confirmed it.

We felt guilty that we’d missed the signs; Stevie handled it much better than we did. Still, everybody worried about her, especially her favorite person in the world, who came to visit her that spring. She spent all her time in his lap or next to him on the couch or on the bench outside. He even got her to play fetch by tossing a rawhide bone in a way that enabled her to hear it when it landed. We rarely played with her with toys, because she tended to get manic and obsessive about them, but it’s a favorite uncle’s prerogative to indulge a niece, right?

You must have guessed that it was Uncle Tim with whom Stevie shared such a special bond. And even though Stevie’s gone now, and Tim hasn’t worn this color nail polish in years, nor would you ever see him with a cigarette these days (three years and counting!), he’s still pretty much the favorite person of every dog on The Compound–resident, visitor, or foster.

That’s why he’s the Dog Whisperer.