For years, our Golden Retriever, Shakira, had the ability to track an incoming missile – a yellow tennis ball, I mean – better than the air defenses of most of the world’s countries. Her ability to lock on to a target and pull in the prize, coupled with her speed in the 100-yard dash, would have made NFL scouts drool like a Bloodhound, sure they’d found the next hall of fame wide receiver.
Shakira is an athlete, a hard-bodied, golden phenom who never has an off day. If you threw it, she would retrieve it. And beg you to throw it again. And again. My arm would fall off long before my tail-wagging retriever would allow me to put down the ball.
These days, though, she wouldn’t notice if I stopped throwing the ball because she can’t see what I’m doing anymore. In just two days, 12-year-old Shakira went from being able to track an airborne tennis ball at a dead run to not being able to see a spoonful of canned dog food held two feet in front of her nose. (Read more of the article by By Dr. Marty Becker, below)