60: Sight Comes in Many Forms

60: Sight Comes in Many Forms

From Chicken Soup for the Soul: I Can't Believe My Dog Did That!

Sight Comes in Many Forms

Any glimpse into the life of an animal quickens our own and makes it so much the larger and better in every way.

~John Muir

She sat looking up at me intently, waiting for our conversation to begin. Yet she had no eyes.

Skye, a Norwegian Elkhound, was six years old when her caretaker Janis called me for a consultation. As an animal intuitive I talk with animals, provide healing energies to them, and consult regularly with a variety of animals regarding emotional, health, and behavioural issues. Janis had heard about my gifts from a friend and called because Skye had digestive issues that were compromising her health.

During my initial talk with Janis, I had the impression that Skye was grey in colour. I had never seen a Norwegian Elkhound. So when my conversation with Janis ended, I went to my dog book, opening it at random, right at the page for Norwegian Elkhounds. They were indeed grey.

When I prepare to work with an animal I meditate at my home, calling its energy to me and talk with it that way first. I will then either complete my consultation long distance, talking to the caretaker with the information I collected from the animal, or arrange for a site visit. It is the animal, not the human, who tells me if I need to arrange a physical visit.

If an animal hurts somewhere, I will generally feel that pain in my body in a corresponding spot. In Skye’s case, her digestive system was somewhat tender. But Janis had recently adopted a diet more compatible with Skye’s system, so that no longer appeared to be a major issue. My sense was a few tweaks were still needed.

In meditation I asked Skye to come into my inner awareness and she did. Most often, an animal will show itself to me in some manner. In my inner vision I will see an eye, face, tail, or nose. In Skye’s case I felt her presence in a strong way, but did not see any part of her body. I asked her about her sight, how she was coping with not having eyes, and she told me she could see. From speaking to Janis I knew Skye had her eyes removed, yet she insisted she could see. I asked her to show me what that looked like. I immediately saw darkness, but when I rested in that darkness I began to see outlines of the furniture in my meditation room. Skye could see outlines of furniture, walls, people, other animals, and so on. I was amazed.

That strong sense of her presence, and that she could see but visually couldn’t, intrigued me and I wanted to meet her. She told me that she wanted to see me in person, so I arranged a visit when next in Winnipeg, a city two hours away.

Skye lived with her sister Ginger, their human Janis, and Pita, the younger dog who lived with Maya, Janis’ daughter.

Everyone was at the door to greet me when I arrived. Greetings were vigorous and a great deal of milling around occurred for a few minutes with Skye right in there with the other dogs.

When I visit multi-animal homes, the animals tend to sort out who goes first to visit with me. This time was no different. Once everyone settled down from the greeting and the humans were busy trying to figure out the appropriate protocol, Skye quietly presented herself in front of me, looking very intently, waiting for our chat.

This action in itself is not unusual when an animal speaks with me — we maintain direct eye contact while the messages are shared. If I couldn’t see with my own eyes that her eyelids were sewn shut, I would have said she was looking at me with a piercing gaze.

The other two dogs took themselves off to different areas of the home, one right around the corner so she could listen in (for she also wanted to talk with me), and the other further away because she did not want to talk with me.

Skye’s eyesight had begun to fail two years ago, leading to removal of one eye six months later with the diagnosis of primary glaucoma. The veterinarians who were involved at different times with her care informed Janis that the probability of the other eye going was extremely high.

Janis treated Skye’s remaining eye with medicines that helped prolong the sight, until a year and a half later when her other eye was removed. Throughout her medical care Skye was stoic and cooperative. Janis informed me that the glaucoma issue tended to be inherent in that particular breed. Although Skye’s sister Ginger had the same genetic background, her sight was fine. It was just the luck of the draw for Skye. The reason the eyes had to be removed had to do with the pressure building up and not dissipating, even though her sight had failed.

Skye moved around the home like she was sighted. When she sat in front of me and looked up at me, she could see me. I have visited with other dogs who had lost their sight, and they tend to navigate with their heads lowered toward the ground at a bit of an angle, almost like they were hearing an echo from the earth as they moved. They also walked slowly with care, sometimes stumbling if the terrain was new. Skye moved like any sighted dog without any hesitation.

I observed that Skye is clearly the Alpha in the house, and so the others deferred to her. I watched her movement and was amazed at how smoothly she carried herself. Her head was up and she moved with confidence around furniture, around moving people, around the other moving dogs and navigated to a sit stance right in front of me. She impressed me with her calmness. She was well mannered and a gentle dog, and I felt her strong presence — her soul if you like. She had a sense of humour and a certain regal feel. As we chatted and got her diet balanced out for her, she told me that sight was not an issue. Janis dittoed that! Janis said the only thing that throws Skye is a loud, unexpected noise when she is outside walking.

Skye said that she did not like the new house (she and Janis had moved into it just a month before she lost her sight) as much as she had the other house, because she had favourite spots to visit in the old neighbourhood and friends to greet on her walks.

Skye controls her pack, including Janis, with a serene and gentle presence that calms the other occupants of the house. She claims her space without the need to boss any dog around and provides a peaceful energy to the house. She is unique — a dog without eyes who can see. She senses your emotion and relaxes into it, providing comfort to those around her. Janis affirmed that Skye tapped into her emotions quickly and spread her love to everyone, humans and dogs alike.

~Camille Hill

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