A Different Kind of Normal: Why Bear Isn't "Missing" Anything
When people meet Bear for the first time, their reaction is often one of pity. They see his unique face and assume he lives in a world of confusion or fear. But those of us who know him—know the truth is much more beautiful.
The Question We Get Most
One of the biggest questions we get is, "Is he sad he can't see?" The truth? Bear doesn't know he's "missing" anything. Because he was born blind, the dark isn't scary to him—it's just home. He doesn't grieve for sunsets he’s never seen; instead, he celebrates the fuzzy texture of his favorite tennis ball, the smell of the morning air, and the sound of a treat bag opening from three rooms away.
While dogs who lose their sight later in life have to "re-learn" the world, Bear was a master of his other senses from the start. He taught us that "disability" is often just a label we put on things we don't yet understand.
A Life of Simple Joys: Sniffing, Snoozing & Tennis Balls
If you want to know what a "perfect" day looks like for Bear, it’s a beautiful mix of sensory magic:
The Tennis Ball Obsession: He might not see the ball fly through the air, but he is a pro at "hearing" where it lands and "sniffing" it out of the grass. The joy he gets from a simple tennis ball is proof that you don't need eyes to play.
Professional Level Smelling: To Bear, a walk is a "smell-walk." His nose is his GPS, his newspaper, and his entertainment all in one. He can spend ten minutes investigating a single blade of grass, and we let him—because that is how he sees the world's beauty.
Expert Napping: Once the sniffing and playing are done, Bear is a world-class napper. He can find the warmest sunspot on the floor or the softest corner of the couch with unerring accuracy.
Seeing with the Heart
Bear doesn't need to see my face to know he’s loved, and I don’t need him to see me to feel his loyalty. He has taught us to slow down, to breathe in the world around us, and to appreciate the magic in the things we usually overlook.
Disability isn't a lack of ability; it's just a different way of experiencing the world.
