Morey goes to the Opthamologist

I know Morey almost as well as I know myself. I know his quirks, his habits, likes and dislikes, what is normal and what is not normal. As my partner, it is my job and responsibility to make sure he is happy and healthy and to notice when he is not.

In September I noticed a small spot on his right eye. It looked reflective and a little cloudy and at first I thought nothing of it, but I made a note to keep an eye on it. It didn’t seem to affect his vision or cause any pain but after a few months it was still there. Because my first service dog, Jessie, had to retire early because of medical issue, I may be a little more attuned to Morey's health. When we were home for Thanksgiving I asked if Jamie Young, Morey’s breeder, would be willing to look at it. She graciously agreed and then encouraged me to have him checked by a canine opthamologist. She gave me a referral for one in Austin and I called to set up an appointment, hoping to find out it is nothing to worry about.

Morey was all wags and “doggie smiles” at the clinic until the vet tech put her rubber gloves on. Then he came and tried to retreat behind my chair. It was clear he wasn’t happy about what was happening, but he allowed the vet tech to maneuver him into position while she put drops in to dilate his eyes so the vet could examine them. She also put in drops to test his duct passage ways and warned me it would start coming out green around his eyes and nose. I was glad she warned me because it was a very unnatural color to be coming out of my dog! She also stuck small plastic strips inside his eyelid to measure his tear duct production. It looked horribly uncomfortable and Morey kept blinking and squinting his eyes but remained calm and still the entire time.

 

When it was time for the vet to examine him, she turned off the lights and put on her headgear with all her lights and scopes and mirrors. It is always a little unsettling for me when I go to the eye dr and have all that equipment right in my face and I can only imagine what that experience is like for a dog. A vet tech was holding Morey and she expressed appreciation for how accepting and calm Morey is. She related stories of having to hold small dogs who are squirming all around-made especially difficult in the dark because you can’t see the teeth or claws coming! Yikes! Morey was a model patient and was a gentleman throughout the entire exam.

 

The diagnosis is corneal dystrophy, which thankfully sounds worse than it is. The spot, as best I can understand it, is a lipid/fat deposit. It is doesn’t affect his vision and doesn’t cause pain. There isn’t really any treatment and the vet just advised me to keep an eye on it to make sure it isn’t growing/changing. She recommended a low-fat diet if it seems to be getting worse. I was very relieved to have this news and glad it is nothing that will cause pain or affect his working life.

The vet commended me for noticing the spot, because it is fairly small. For me, it was an example of how connected I am to Morey-enough to recognize even the smallest change.

When we were checking out, the receptionist asked if we needed to schedule a follow up visit. The vet tech who was standing nearby said “no, unfortunately not”. I laughed and said “I consider that a good thing!” She explained that she wanted a chance to see Morey again and I assured her that we would be happy to stop by for a visit sometime. He charmed everyone on the clinic and even I don’t think I have ever been more proud of Morey.

Every time Morey experiences something new and strange and reacts with poise and acceptance, I am thankful for all the handlers and volunteers who played a role in socializing him into a confident and calm working dog no matter what unique circumstances he encounters. He truly is one amazing dog!

When we left the clinic, Morey was squinting because his eyes were dilated. I forgot to bring him sunglasses to wear, so just let him rest quietly at home the rest of the day. By the next day he was fully recovered and ready to get back to work.