One is the loneliest number

Oh happy day, my little dog Binnie went from two eyes to one today. She seems fine. I cried like a baby at various times in the day

Binnie is my dog, I picked her out at the city pound on Valentine's Day when she was a scant eight weeks old and I was newly moved to St. Louis. She has defied me at every turn since then, but I do so love her and I feel like I've failed her.

You may recall she had an abrupt retinal detachment last spring of her left eye? And then that same eye got glaucoma, which is like winning the shit lottery twice, because with glaucoma if you don't keep the pressures under control the eye starts to SWELL and it hurts like a mother.

Swell it did. Until it was really just a red, roving mass of stinkeye. The vet recommended we give up the sham and just remove the blind eye and put her out of her discomfort.

I agreed.

Today was the big day. She went in at 7 and came out at 6, minus one red oozy orb.

The most disturbing comments have come from the children.

Griffin: "If my eye gets sick, are you going to do that to me?" No, sweetie, for you we would spring for the glass eye.
Cooper: "Will she wear a patch like a pirate?" Only if she plans on running away to join the navy or something.

The worst indignancy? They sent her home with a big pink bandana around her neck, like she'd won some sort of dog rodeo beauty contest. How rude.

I'm sorry, Binnie.

- H