We recently discovered a very special story about the Juice girl from her Mom, Carrie Tremblay, who has allowed us to share her tales below. These come from an absolutely marvelous site that details Carrie's entire hysterical "Pickpocket Goldens" family. Be sure to get over there for some GReat fun and true Golden insights!

What Happened to Her Eyes?
It's a question we hear often. It is a long sad story. I always thought Juice's eyes looked watery and not quite right. When I questioned the local vets they weren't concerned. A bit of old age cataracts starting up, that's all. When I heard a Veterinary Ophthalmologist was coming to our area for a CERF clinic, I leapt at the chance to see an expert. As we huddled in a small dark room the doctor closely examined Juice's eyes and asked many questions. The news was not good. Juice had an inflammation of the eye, Uveitis, a cataract and the pigment in her eye was spreading. She needed immediate treatment. Fortunately he had some medicine to start her on. We made an appointment for Juice to have a full exam. That exam also brought bad news, Juice's left eye had Glaucoma. We began treating it with 2 drops given 4 times a day. Poor Juice was getting so many drops she grew to hate having them administered. After a few months of treatment, the vet found Juice had a corneal erosion, a very painful condition which would normally heal in a few days. Juice's eye was so diseased that it couldn't heal after weeks of treatment. The kindest thing to do considering the terrible pain, and the fact that she had already lost vision in that eye, was to remove it. It was a heartbreaking decision for Rich and me. We felt like we were maiming our beautiful girl and she wouldn't understand the pain we were putting through. 

She recuperated from her operation. It seemed to cause her much more pain than the three other surgeries she had undergone for Mast Cell Tumors. We had a period of grace in which Juice was healthy and happy, but it was not to last. She developed Glaucoma in her other eye. I wanted to scream and weep when the prognosis was delivered. We treated Juice successfully for months, keeping the pressure of the eye within normal limits. Then it happened. One night, in the space of 2 hours, we watched horrorstruck as Juice went irrevocably blind. It was one of the most agonizing nights of my life. Juice was panicked, stumbling around her once familiar house, getting lost in corners, stumbling into walls, and tripping over the other dogs. She recovered from this setback much more quickly than we did. She learned to feel her way about the house, memorizing where carpets led, and furniture was. Rich and I were devastated, it took us much longer to pull ourselves together. The Veterinary Ophthalmologist explained that Juice had undergone a SARDS attack, Sudden Acquired Retinal Degeneration. No one really knows what causes it.

More bad news for Juice, she developed a corneal erosion on her remaining eye. It also wouldn't heal. We treated it unsuccessfully for almost two months until the vet gently but firmly suggested the kindest thing would be to remove the eye since it was blind anyway. It was our choice, she would continue treating it for as long as we wished, she just felt if it were going to heal, it would have done so already. With much soul searching, we made another agonizing decision to end Juice's torment by removing the diseased eye.

Juice has adapted beautifully to her blindness, she gets along quite well, enjoys all her normal activities. She adores eating, then having a long luxurious roll in the grass. She still goes on long walks with us, loves getting together with other Golden Retrievers and their owners, delights in running errands to the bank and gas station. She knows her neighborhood walk well enough to walk off leash. She knows what "careful Juice","this way", "step down" and step up" mean. She can still find her tennis balls and her beloved bones, and even attempts to use her blindness as an excuse for naughtiness. "Counter-surfing, me? I didn't even know a counter was there!"

Juice's blindness is just a fact of life for Rich and me now. We don't think much of it until someone asks "Can she see?" or "What happened to her eyes?" . Sometimes a fit of black humor will overtake and we are tempted to reply "fly fishing accident" or "too much TV". We don't mind answering the questions, I like to use the opportunity to educate other dog owners in the hopes other dogs' vision may be saved. The children are most often quite sweet. They look very worried and want to know if it hurts. Juice soaks up this extra attention, she loves children.

What we do mind are the aghast looks, the looks of disgust on adult faces, the transparent thought "why don't they just put that miserable animal down"? Juice doesn't see them; it doesn't hurt her, but it wounds me. I know how important human contact is to her, how she adores a soft touch, a gentle voice, meeting new people. She is not a miserable suffering animal. She is our sweet Juice, who gracefully overcame what is to her a minor setback. She still has her nose, her hearing, and her appetite. She is enjoying her life and Rich and I will be there to support her and enrich her life as she has enriched ours.

Amazing Juice
Juice has adjusted to her blindness with incredible grace and bravery. There have been profoundly moving moments for me watching her become accustomed to her new dark world. The winter snows have actually been an aid to her. When we walk in the woods, she can tell that she has left the trail when the snow is no longer hard packed. On the road, she walks along the wall of snow thrown up by the plow. Occasionally she misjudges and bounces off the snow bank. She is not deterred by the invisible obstacle, just resets her course.

There are still times when I cannot believe she doesn't see. She trots down the road ahead of me, bravely forging into the darkness, only her familiarity with the neighborhood as her guide. When she trips over a clump of snow in the road she stumbles momentarily then continues on unafraid. She sometimes heels with me, a sight that gives me the willies. She trots by my side, ears up, one eye brightly pointed at my face. She seems to be watching me intently. Anybody watching would never know she couldn't see me. I can't tell that she doesn't see me.

There are moments that break my heart. When I enter a room and she lifts up her head and wags her tail. Her eye has a disconcerting blankness, and it is looking slightly in the wrong direction. Yesterday she walked too far into the breezeway and couldn't find the door. The strangest thing was having an "argument" with her about the location of our driveway. Coming back from walks she always seemed to feel that the driveway should be ten feet further down the road. I would have to keep calling her to me trying to convince her that it was the entrance to the driveway. We are both adjusting. I find comfort in her unknowing bravery, her amazing grace.

Every Day Wonders
If you hang around Juice very long you will quickly find out she has a bone fetish. One of her nicknames is Groucho because she is always walking around carrying her bone like Groucho's cigar. She loves to come up to you and show you her bone, smiling and wagging, waiting for you to admire it. She doesn't want you to take it and throw it or anything, just admire it. As a matter of fact, you cannot pry that bone out of her mouth. Just ask Bill and Wendy. When they went to pick up Casey as a puppy, Juice wouldn't drop her bone and kept coming over to have it admired. Her sentiments were clearly "Hey never mind that pesky little puppy. Look at me, I am cute, and I have the finest bone you have ever seen".

This morning I watched as my blind dog carefully felt her way along the hallway, located the toy basket in the living room, then used her nose to check out all the toys. All the stuffed toys were ignored (uggh, woobies, those are for puppies) the tennis ball was inspected but not chosen (hmmm, I think I will try a bone this morning), then she found a bone, checked it out, and discarded it. Nope not good enough. More nuzzling around. Snuggles the bear popped out of the basket and did a face plant on the floor, a squeaky ball shot out next and rolled under the couch. Nope, said Juice, that's not it. Finally, from the depths of the toy basket she located the perfect bone. Just the right shape, flavor and smell. Aaaah that's the ticket. Got to take this one over to show Mom and Dad.

Slowly back down the hallway, bone firmly clenched and poking out at a jaunty angle. Juice came over, tail shimmying, head held proudly to display her prize. It just really touched me. She didn't take the first toy to come along because it was easy, she sorted through them all. Juice you are a wonder dog, I wonder what you will do next.

Juice's Recall
While Juice does not do a flashy, fast recall like Paris, she still does an impressive recall. Since she can't see I cheat a little and use many vocal cues. Picture this: Juice is on the lawn in a sit stay. Her head is cocked a bit to the side as she listens to me walk away. I get into position 15 feet away. . . . Pause. Juice listens expectantly, mouth open in a slight grin (this is fun!) and a paw half raised.

I say Come Juice!...Come... Juice.. come. She keys in on each command, slightly adjusting her course as she gets a better idea of where I am. Her nose is raised high, sniffing me out. She is smiling as she trots. As she gets closer, I switch to Good Girl! Good Girl! She slows a little then pushes her nose into my hands, smiling widely now. I did it I did it! Juice won't earn a CD with a recall like that, but boy does she make me proud.

Laugh or Cry
There are times when you must choose to laugh or cry at the obstacles a blind dog faces. I had to laugh at the last one. Our house has French doors that look out over the driveway. This is Paris's "command post". She lies on the sheepskin and watches the neighborhood. When a car pulls up the driveway she gives a whuff to let everyone know. Spirit usually runs over at this point to provide backup. This requires her to stand, ears perked up, peeking over Paris's shoulder. She want to make sure Paris is between any potential problems and her petite flower self. If Paris ramps up into her song, a growling, whining, singsong that indicates that Rich or I have come home, Juice will wander over to join the greeting committee.

When I came home this time I could see Paris looking out through the French doors, mouth pooched up as she yodeled her welcome song. Spirit stood next to her, tail swishing, mouth open in a happy smile. And next to Spirit stood Juice, facing the opposite direction, looking away from the French doors, tail wagging madly as she faced into the house towards the dining room table. I guess you had to be there but it looked so funny, like she was really happy the table had just arrived home.

A Leap of Faith
Every summer Rich and I take the girls (our 3 Goldens) up to the family farm in Downeast Maine. It is a bit of heaven, wide open hay fields stretching down to a sandy beach with a view the island speckled bay, large tracts of balsam scented woods, wild blueberries, raspberries and blackberries growing every where. This was the first summer that Juice made the trip as a blind dog. We hoped it would be easy for her, there is so much open space that there should be less for her to crash into, or stumble over.

For the most part Juice adapted very well. Within a few miles of the farm she knew exactly where she was headed. She was sniffing the familiar smells eagerly. Once out of the truck, she immediately headed for the field and had a long luxurious roll in long grass, what a treat.

There was one unexpected obstacle though. My cousin had replaced the ancient wooden steps to the porch with cement steps. Juice did not like something about them. She did not want to climb up them and had to be coaxed up the 4 steps with tail tucked and trembling legs. She was fine once she reached the old familiar porch and quickly regained her confidence as she found her way around the farm house.

After feeding the dogs and getting unpacked it was time for the first trip to the beach. As soon as Juice's paw touched that cold cement step she refused to go any farther. We coaxed, we pleaded. Rich was just about to pick her up and carry her down (Juice loathes being picked up) when Juice took a leap of faith and jumped to the ground. We were aghast but she was fine. Clearly we could not have a 12 year old blind dog jumping 4 steps every time she wanted to leave the house. I began leading her through the barn, and the shed into the back of the house to get her in and out, a long and winding route. It was not convenient but seemed to be easiest on Juice.

Rich had a brainstorm and pulled the ramp out of the truck. He custom made her a carpet covered ramp so she could get in and out of the truck. Once he leaned it up against the porch Juice happily trundled right up it. Over the next few days she became quite accomplished at marching up and down her ramp. My cousin got quite a kick out of her "handicapped ramp" and teased my father that it was really there for him. And that was just the start of our vacation adventures!

The Persistence of Memory
Juice has a tendency to walk very slowly so I try to get a few minutes of rapid exercise in by heeling with her. When we reach my neighbor Cheryl's house I say "Juice, want to work?" and she turns her head up to me with ears perked up. Then I say "Juice Heel!" and off we go at a showy rapid trot. Juice loves heeling because she knows she will get a little treat at the end. I also hope she just enjoys it because we are working together. She always enjoyed practicing obedience when she had her sight. Spirit and Paris come up on either side of her because they want a treat too. So there we go; a fabulous troika of Goldens trotting by my side, ears up, tails swishing as we forge down the street to the next house. Its really quite a sight. I halt and all three plunk down around me waiting for their tidbits.

We usually do this on every walk. Sometimes if Juice seems particularly tired, or we are in a rush we skip it. Saturday morning we skipped it as we were going to have a busy day, Juice would be getting plenty of exercise. We were in front of Cheryl's house when I looked down and saw Juice was trotting at my side, ears up, looking jaunty. I smiled thinking, oh good, she is feeling wonderful and is actually trotting. We continued on. I glanced down again and noticed that Spirit was also trotting next to Juice. Great, I thought, we will make good time this morning. Then Paris pulled up on the outside. I now had 3 dogs trotting at heel, heads up, looking expectantly my way. Slowing it dawned at me. We had passed the "heeling point" and Juice had known it. Without visual cues she starting heeling without her clueless owner to tell her. I was amazed by her. She must have scent cues, or such a good mental map of the neighborhood that she knew where she was and that we start heeling at that point. As Rich says, Juice you are a wonder dog, I wonder what you will do next.

Juice goes to Kennebunkport
All this humidity has really been freaking Juice out. She is just positive that a thunderstorm is coming. The bright side of this is that our walks have become dramatically quicker with Juice going as fast as she can to get walkies over with. You should see her in action. She looks like a gorgeous show dog—she does that driving flashy quick trot that handlers encourage. Lots of style, head held high. I have to trot to keep up with her. Travis and Spirit don't approve of it.

On Sunday Juice decided between the humidity and the frequent rain showers that the mother of all storms was coming. She quivered and cowered. We had planned to go to Kennebunkport that day to get my sister's birthday present. We couldn't leave Juice at the house without supervision the ways she was acting. Juice always feels safe in my Camry so in she went. By the dint of her major league sissiness she got to go on the road trip while all the good brave puppers had to stay home.

Once we hit the road and turned on the air conditioner she slowly settled down. The rhythm of the road lulled her into a light sleep. She relaxed all the way up to K-port, hogging the entire back seat. She did ok in town. It must have been a little scary for her, a new environment, lots of people and new noises. Rich and I kept her between us on a short leash. One of us would go into a shop while the other stayed outside with Juice. Fortunately the day stayed gray and cool. There was even a handy porch to hide on when it started to rain. A few people would stop to talk and pet her. Juice just adored that. Questions range from "Is she blind? to "what happened to her eyes?" One mother was brought over by her 2 children who had noticed Juice and were worried about her eyes, or lack thereof. She wanted to know if Juice was protective of me. I explained no, she was not protective at all, in fact she is a great socializer who really enjoys meeting people. The mother thought because Juice was standing so close to me she was protecting me. No, more like the other way around.

We really should have brought Juice's wagon. It would have been easier to get her around and would have gotten Juice even more attention, which is what Juice considers the most important thing. I am glad she enjoyed herself even though it meant a rushed trip for us, and no lunch on the river. Sigh. Oh well, what ever Juicie wants, Juicie gets.

The Royal Progress
Last night it was HOT. It was time for our evening walkies so the girls could check their pee-mail. Juice had refused to go outside after supper, insisting it was too hot for a delicate flower like herself. Well she has to go sometime. We knew it would be a record short walk if Juice had her way so we decided to bring her Majesty's royal wagon.

I don't know if you have seen it, but Juice has a top of the line Radio Flyer Wagon with pneumatic wheels so she can go four wheeling without getting jounced. Juice LOVES her wagon. She would much rather ride than walk. We use it on nights that threaten thunderstorms, she feels safer in her wagon. The only drawback is that she loves her wagon so much she spends most of the walk chasing it, trying to get in. Even now that she is blind, she is amazingly skillful at locating her wagon by sound and doing her darndest to climb in the back. We have to keep the gate up on the back or Rich has to keep running and dodging. She gets a workout chasing the wagon.

Juice's ears really perked up when she heard the rattle of the wagon coming down the gravel driveway. I told her she couldn't ride until she pooped. I swear she understood. Two minutes later she pooped then ran to the wagon wagging her tail. Well, what could we do, a promise is a promise. She hopped in, I adjusted her tail so it wouldn't drag and we were off. She looked so happy in the wagon. She had a little smile on her face. Occasionally she would lean her chin on the railings for a little rest.

Spirit hates it when Juice rides in the wagon. We can really pick up the pace without worrying about tiring Juice out. Paris was delighted. Finally! No poking around. She trotted merrily ahead of us while Spirit huffed and puffed behind us with her ear flaps out.

We walked around the neighborhood in style, Rich pulling like a draft horse, me walking next to Juice and giving her pats, Paris bounding up ahead, and Spirit trailing behind. Poor Spirit. We are going to have to get another wagon and hook it up like a tandem trailer behind Juice's wagon so Spirit can ride too.