Some jobs we choose and some jobs are given to us.
Got home after a trip and she looked at me sideways, not knowing exactly was she was looking at. We hugged, we talked, we stared at each other without words. Something was different this time, there was no jumping or dancing around the kitchen floor. There were no smiles coming from a perfect mouth of straight teeth, maybe we were just too tired to understand what was going on.
Next day we went for a walk together, what turned out to be confusing, aimless, and without a sense of direction. Back home I felt her indifference in front of a treat, and then came my realization of her lack of sight. Blindness had hit her after three months of finding out she was diabetic. How cruel could this be? But then, in all the perfection of the universe there’s a lot of completely normal cruelty and imperfect incidents, which lead us to new paths we need to walk, tactics we need to learn, and new directions where we need to reset our compass.
Problems are not problems, they are just tasks that demand more creativity and patience, and I’m famous for both. Famous for being the mosaic artist that can pick up pieces of broken things, people, projects and transforming it into something prettier, bigger, whole.
And so a new chapter started, teaching a blind dog to walk the streets, to learn the way from and to home. To learn to read with her paws the way to the sidewalk, to the grass, and away from the rocks. To learn to sniff the familiar smells surrounding the backyard and be able to walk back to the door. To learn to listen to other dogs even before my eyes had a chance to see them.
Nothing is broken. Maybe just my heart. But there’s no time for broken hearts when life demands so much attention and progression with what is left. The pieces of a mosaic are still as precious as the original art before it was broken. And life goes on as I walk the blind dog everyday around the block.