Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Wow, is it April 1st already?

April 1st has a special meaning to the vast majority of the world in that it's the day when everyone has free reign to play as many practical jokes on as many unsuspecting victims as they can. Today is April Fool's Day, and I'm no different than the rest of the world. I played a whopper of a practical joke on my wife on this day several - SEVERAL - years ago, and for the sake of her reputation I'll keep what I did to myself!

But for me, April 1st has two other, much more significant meanings. There was an event on this day in 1998 and again in 2001 that have played a very special and important part in my life, something that will forever be entwined in my being.

On April 1, 1998 after serving 22 years, 9 months and 17 days, I retired from active duty with the United States Air Force. I joined the Air Force only a mere 11 days after I graduated from high school with the intent of serving four years and then getting out. I was going to go on the North Carolina Highway Patrol, since that's where I was living at the time I enlisted. Well, as they say, "the best laid plans of mice and men...." When it came time for me to get out in 1979, my wife (at the time) and I took a good, hard look at the economy and all of the benefits of staying in the service, and decided to stick around for another four years. Four years after that we decided to stay in for the long haul.

Being in the Air Force gave me a chance to see places, do things, and meet people that I would never have had the chance to do, and if I had the chance to do it all over again I'd jump at it. Sometimes I still sit back and ask myself, "What in the hell am I doing out here with all these civilians?" You can retire from the active service, but deep down inside you'll always be military - that's what they mean when they say it's a "way of life."

It's been eleven years to the day that I retired, and I still miss the Air Force. Every single minute of every single day.

The other event for which I remember this day took place on April 1, 2001 - that's the day that "Buster," our Boston Terrier, was born. This little dog showed me that it was okay to love a dog again, and the depths of my love for him scares me sometimes. You see, the last dog I had came to kind of a bad end - he was a Jack Russell Terrier named "Squirt," and I had to give him up because he was terrorizing my kids and tearing up my house. We'd had him for about five years, ever since he was a puppy, and it hurt like hell when I had to give him up. I cried about it for days, and it still hurts to a point to this day.

I was afraid to open myself up to a love like that again, but when my wife Gina said she wanted a Boston Terrier, I gave in. Words can't describe how much I've come to love Buster in the past eight years, and I love that little pooch more each day.

But the love comes with a price, as nearly all love does.

Bostons are notoriously suseptible to cataracts because they're so closely inbred, and Buster was no exception. He had cataracts so bad that he could only see with his peripheral vision in both eyes. We had the cataracts removed in September of 2007, and he was a dog reborn! It was so good to look into his eyes and know that he was looking back, and that he could see me! He was looking at me instead of towards me, and that was a wonderful feeling!

Anyone who has ever had a dog who has had cataract surgery knows that you have to constantly be on the alert for the development of glaucoma. The vet gave us some drops to put in Buster's eyes to help prevent glaucoma, and for 18 months they worked. His right eye was always fine, but his left eye was always a prolem. It'd get foggy every now and then, but as soon as we put another drop in it, it would clear right up.

And then, about two weeks ago, it wouldn't clear up. Took all day and several additional applications of drops, but it finally did clear up. Three days after that, Buster woke up on Sunday morning and BOTH EYES were cloudy to the point that he couldn't see. My wife and I were scared out of our minds that he had gone blind overnight, but as soon as some drops were put in his eyes, they both cleared up. We took him to the vet four days later (the doggie eye doc only comes down to this area once a week on Thursdays) and the vet told us that Buster had "limited vision, if any" in his left eye, but that his right eye was fine. He gave us some additional drops to put in his left eye to help keep the pressure from building up, so we're putting drops in Buster's eyes three times a day, every day, and ya know what? We don't mind!

Since that day, Gina and I have been fighting like mad to keep Buster's right eye clear, and we've succeeded. It hasn't been cloudy once since that Sunday, and we've even managed to keep his left eye clear as well. He just can't see out of it. "Limited vision," my ass - he can't see out of it at all. Maybe some light and shadow every now and then, but for the most part, nothing.

But as long as he has the sight in his right eye, we're good. And we're gonna fight like hell to keep that sight for as long as we can, hopefully for the rest of his life.

Which, I hope, will be for a long time yet to come.

Someone once said that there is no love purer than the love of a dog, and brother, do I believe that.

Happy Birthday, Buster! I love you, baby boy!

IHC

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