This is Ollie. Sometimes, when he's being suspiciously good or extraordinarily bad, his name is Oliver. When pronounced correctly, Ollie's name rhymes! (Ollie Truncale. Imagine there's an 'i' on the end instead of the 'e'). Ollie's birthday is December 18, 2008. He likes long walks, his ball that makes noises when it bounces, belly rubs, baths, and cantaloupe. We adopted Ollie from the City of Pasadena Animal Control and Adoption Shelter in Pasadena, TX in September of 2009. When we first got Ollie, he was scrawny. He was eaten up with a type of mange that mothers pass to puppies within their first week of life, so his hair was spotty. He had no hair around his eyes, and they were red and puffy. And we noticed he kept bumping into things, but the shelter had not done a very good job of keeping him groomed, so we were unsure if it was the hair in his face or what.
A visit to the vet later, we learned that Ollie was completely and definitely blind in one eye, and that the other eye was impaired by a cataract. The vet isn't sure what amount of sight he has left, but it's not much. She offered to refer us to a surgeon in Houston who could remove the cataract for the small fee of $2500. With a wedding and a house and a life to pay for, we said we would have to think about it. The vet assured us that after he got used to his surroundings, that none of us would ever notice he was blind. I was having these horrible flashes of him spending the rest of his life running into things and begging on the corner with some sunglasses on and a little cup for alms. In truth, I was more upset about it than he was. The vet was right. Within a few weeks, Ollie got used to where the furniture was, where the rooms were located, and he started getting around without bumping into things. The same little hitch in their brain that allows dogs to go exactly back to the place they buried something is what allows blind dogs to get around so well. He literally draws a map in his brain.
We have been unfair to Ollie. I haven't been training him correctly. I've been so caught up in his disabilities and the hard life he has had so far that he has almost been getting away with murder. He chewed Jake's new Droid Eris one night. He destroyed the book light I bought a week ago. He chews on the welcome mat if we go outside and don't take him with us. He trails behind you, nipping and biting at your heels as you walk through the house and then immediately darting off in fear of backlash. He knows basic commands, like 'sit', 'stay', and 'down', but lately he has been trying to exercise his perceived alpha dog status. He listens less and less.
At first we thought it was the move to the new house. It had him disoriented and out of his routine, but its more than that. For the past week, Jake and I have been tormented by this devil dog. Time to get back on track. Time to unearth the sweet boy I know is in there. Pray for us.
