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You know those moments when you love and appreciate your dog so much you find yourself crying?

I do that with Tom a lot.  Especially at times of vision transition and flux.

He’s such a good dog.  I cannot describe how much I love him.

Every couple of years or so my visual system shifts again.  No one in the medical field really knows why.  I have a screwed up nervous system, that seems to be the current answer.  I’ve given up trying to find answers to the why, instead I focus on the what and the how.  As in what do I need to learn/change/adjust?  or how will I now do x, y or z?

Usually before I get to the what and how stage, I live in the denial stage for a bit.  Ok, as long as I feasibly can quite frankly.  Because figuring out a new status quo can be frustrating, and scary, and a whole slew of emotions I get tired of processing through each transition.

Tom always seems to know things are shifting or have shifted long before I’m ready to acknowledge it.  So he adapts, and he starts bringing to my awareness obstacles or things that before he didn’t have to.  And if I’m really stuck in denial, I get a little annoyed with him and try to hurry him along.  I argue with him, I don’t need to know about all of these roots!  Can’t we just go back to the old way?  You only tell me about the really big ones?  Come on!  Let’s go!  Yet, he keeps doing his job.  He’s right.  I now need to know about every single root.

Eventually I face reality.

And am yet again reminded what a wonderful dog Tom is.


Tom resting his head on a blanket, face close to the camera