The wraps of how my special doggo entered my life is rather roundabout, however, important to our story. Cue in London St. James, my Boston Terrier, and perhaps the most important little creature in my life. Before we took her in, London had been through four different homes before she turned one, or 7 in puppy years. As it turns out this was for the better; my sweet girl needed me in the same way I needed her~ insert “dogs are a human’s best friend” one-liner here; but I can attest to the truth of it. I kept the “London” name, but the “St. James” given by her previous owners seemed a bit extra. Over the years she has taken on the names Lonny, Lonlon, Lonyrd Skynyrd, and chicken nugget head, just to name a few, as I’m sure you fellow dog-owners can relate.

The unfortunate truth about London’s breed is that they are subject to glaucoma, and so for the past two years my little Lonny has had a tough go of it. In recent weeks it was easy to tell that despite our best efforts with daily medicines, London was in a lot of pain. So much so that we scheduled an emergency vet appointment and were informed she had gone completely blind in her right eye. A full enucleation of her right eye was needed. In less formal terms, London needed to have her right eye removed.

In the grand scheme of this world’s pandemic, an enucleation might seem minuscule, but I felt distraught. I felt like I failed my girl in some way, I honestly thought my dog was going to resent me for life. What I didn’t realize in the midst of my self-loathing, was that this said more about my thinking than it did about London’s nature. London came home the next day after her surgery with all the kisses and snuggles in the world. We eased each other's wounds in this way, I guess you could say. Two days later and she was searching for her toys to play. She was back to her old antics like, “come on lady, don’t be sitting around moping for me, be happy, I’m happy, let’s play”.

Throughout her recovery period, she somehow flaunts a “keep on keepin’ on and don’t think twice about it because that’s all we can do anyway” energy and it’s contagious. It’s something I needed, and something she is completely unaware of. Her resilience during this period has taught me about strength, and the capacity to “bounce back”. It’s also taught me a thing or two about my own limiting thoughts and I’m endlessly thankful.

My little 20lb one-eyed furball, Lonny the beautiful pirate, is leaving me with the greatest takeaway from this whole pandemic (not to negate the experience of others) and that is to not dwell on the sorrows, there’s life to live on the other side of tragedy, and it’s our duty to keep on keepin’ on, my friends.

Love and Light!

Xx, Sab