LOVE IS BLIND

Sometimes stories come along that just make you want to bawl - from sheer happiness. Four years ago she was a tiny puppy, her coat a merle pattern of black and white speckles. A young couple adopted her from us. When I met her again this fall, she had grown much bigger than most Aussie Cattle Dog mixes and she carried herself with a quiet dignity. You don't notice at first, but she is blind now. This happened two years ago and she has adjusted well. Her adoptive parents have adjusted also despite their very real emotional distress. She was an only.

But no longer. When they brought her to the Brentwood PetSmart store, they told me they wanted a companion for her. Twice they led her up and down the aisle of cages, giving her an opportunity to sniff each of the dogs and puppies. Twice she stopped at the same black Lab mix puppy. Jubal was his name. He came to us with three siblings, all abandoned in Jefferson County. Nothing special, pretty, with a black coat shading to an almost charcoal gray, a friendly, exuberant personality - but that's most Lab puppies.

Jubal went home with them that day. A few weeks later, they brought him by after his puppy training class. Jubal, whose name is now Buddy, has at only five months become his big sister's guide dog. When she doesn't get quite the right trajectory for the door, Buddy is there, blocking her with his body, then nudging with his head until she clears the opening. Outside, he takes the lead, guiding her around the yard. Inside, he makes sure she finds the food bowl and he brings her his toys.

Mom and Dad beam as they tell me this. Buddy sits there with a big grin on his face. As they leave, Buddy's tail starts wagging and he doesn't give me a backward glance.