People so often say that it’s a shame that pups born deaf and blind will never hear how much they are loved or see the smile that goes with that affection, or be able to lead a life like normal dogs do, but whilst that might be technically true, there is no point in comparing or pigeon-holing them.
It is often hard to remember that these dogs know no different than the lives they lead. They do not miss what they have never had and as far as they are concerned their way of life is normal. Their noses are a little sharper, they have an almost inbuilt ability to mind-map places after just a few minutes and whilst there are bumps and accidents it is amazing that there is rarely any real damage sustained. It is not as if they knew how to see and hear and have lost that ability and have to find ways of adapting to be able to cope … their world has always been dark and silent.
The brain is however still just as active. They get into mischief and wow-betide the household if they get bored because they will invent all sorts of amusements, most of which, the humans in the pack will not be best pleased about. Over the years I have been more foxed by deaf/blind collies than any other dog. Child locks had to be installed due to my first double-merle, Teija’s insistence on raiding kitchen cupboards, extra fencing has been erected because Biscuit (our youngest deaf/blind collie) will find the smallest gap to get through and wherever shoes are stored there has to be a secure catch because Kashi, (also born deaf and blind) will find a way to get in if there is not. He can also climb ladders but can’t get down again. Teija had a thing for thundering about at full pelt on her extending lead and bowling the person on the other end over, and so far, Biscuit’s party trick is to pull the kitchen chair out, without tipping it over so she can climb onto the table and pinch the cat food. They are no different to other bright collies as far as having an inbuilt knack for being troublemakers.
Touch is the key to training. Different contacts with different parts of our hands, on different parts of their bodies gives them the commands they need to do not just the basics of sit, stay, down etc. but also far more complex things. Teija learnt to do agility for fun and would even do the jumps. She was taught to inch her nose up something until she found the top and then jump over it. The downside was that baby gates became redundant after that. Kashi quickly understood that staying by his dad’s leg when out gives him the confidence he needs to enjoy walks and Biscuit has mastered the art of constantly touching-base on me with her nose when she is out on her long trailing lead, so she doesn’t get to go too far but it allows her to run with the others. A freedom she loves, so she always plays by the rules.
These dogs are also well aware of how much they are loved. Just to watch how excited Biscuit gets when she smells me as I walk past her, or when I touch her unexpectedly, or the way she totally relaxes when I cuddle her tight shows just how much she knows the affection she is surrounded by and how safe she is. Teija, my first deaf/blind collie was the same as that with me and Kashi reacts in that same extraordinary way to my husband. These special dogs choose the central person to be in their lives and develop a unique bond that is amazing to watch.
Disability is just a label, one given by humans … and one that these dogs have absolutely no concept of. Teija, Kashi and Biscuit were lucky enough to have known nothing but love since birth, and once a member of The House of Misfits Gang … their quality of life was expanded.
Lee Montgomery-Hughes © 2018 (All Rights Reserved)