The story of Sonar is far from simple. Words may not accurately capture the wonder of his brief existence, but rest assured it was one of beauty, happiness, sadness, and simple necessity as he helped myself, and so many others grow.
The animal hospital I was working at in Cleveland at the time worked closely with local rescues and police, consistently bringing in sick or injured animals for treatment. We would frequently see animals with dog fight wounds or that had been obvious victims of neglect, often treating animals knowing that they would either sit in the shelter for months or the state would later euthanize them. We could offer little more than comfort to these animals who clearly had not known the kindness of a human hand.
July 7, 2014 was an exception to that truth. The police had come again through the back to deliver more animals for treatment. Not having seen what they had dropped off, a couple technicians approached me, “Danica, you have to meet this dog”. I walked through the door to see a 6 month old puppy -- skin clinging to his ribs, cloudy eyes, and a coat of mangy gray -- pacing nervously back and forth and though lost and disoriented, he never stopped wagging his tail.
My heart sank. I knew that in his current condition, he would be euthanized by the shelter -- I had to do something. Two days later, Sonar didn’t go to the shelter, Sonar came home.
I quickly discovered that Sonar was not only blind, but deaf as well. My immediate reaction was to panic -- I had a million questions that I couldn’t begin to answer. How was I supposed to communicate with a blind AND deaf dog? How was I going to train this puppy to do anything? Could he still live a fulfilling life with these disabilities? That moment of panic was alleviated only by a commitment to learn. I worked with a trainer, read articles and I did research on how to interact with a deaf and blind animal, anything I could do to give Sonar everything possible to have a fulfilling life.
The first month that Sonar was with me he was deemed a court case to the city of Cleveland. When Sonar was found he had been left to die in a house with one other dog. The owner of the house had decided to move out and made the decision that he no longer wanted to care for his two dogs and left them behind. The police were contacted and after a week of citations, Sonar and his house mate were taken into custody and their former owner was held in court. Unfortunately animal abuse laws in Cleveland were considered a misdemeanor and all the man had to do was sign the dogs over to the city and would only have to pay a small fine.
One of the first things I had done once Sonar was in my care was have him evaluated by an ophthalmologist to see if we could find out why his eyes looked the way that they did. The ophthalmologist was at a loss for words during the exam. He explained to me that he could not see any of the structures that are normally present in either of Sonar’s eyes. A complete enucleation -- total removal of both eyes -- was the recommendation as it was believed that the eyes were causing some discomfort. This was an important first step once the state relinquished him to me.
On July 28th 2014 I received the phone call I had been waiting for; the phone call telling me that Sonar’s previous owner had stopped fighting for him. The phone call telling me that he had officially signed him over to the state and that he was officially mine. The amount of joy that filled my heart knowing that Sonar would never have to see that awful man ever again and that I would give him a new life -- the best life he’d ever known -- a life full of love, is a feeling I will never forget.
Two days later I took Sonar in to have his eyes removed and the next day he was a completely different dog. The day that I picked him up from my clinic and brought him home the first thing he wanted to do was play with a volleyball that was in the backyard and wrestle with my other dog. I saw instantly that his pain was gone and he no longer had to worry about anything, he could be a puppy again. I could never have anticipated the joy that would come over me watching him trip over a volleyball wearing an e-collar. Little did I know how much that gangly puppy would come to change my world in years to come.
I quickly learned that Sonar was very smart and willing to learn despite a fear of the things he could not perceive. The first hurdle we had to overcome was the leash, and believe me that was a hurdle. The breaks were pumping, the butt was sitting down, and he would frequently attempt to run the other way. With a vibration collar, treats and the help of my older dog, this process was not quite so harrowing. Sonar learned that walking on a leash wasn’t the end of the world. This was the first step, as soon, Sonar would have to overcome hurdles such as stairs, getting in the car, and finding his food and water dish, but with help we overcame these to the best of our abilities.
Our home life was nothing short of entertaining. Sonar ran into walls, furniture, and people regularly. There were many elements of my life that would have to change to make sure Sonar wouldn’t hurt himself or break any of my belongings. Little things like using my coffee table, placing something in the middle of the room or even leaving food on the counter were things that I had to pay attention to. Countless times, Sonar ran chest first into the coffee table spilling my coffee all over me, other times he knocked over the vacuum cleaner because I left it in the middle of the floor, or he would jump on the counter to grab my sandwich off the edge. Even my ability to jump over that dog was trained as he would come barreling toward me with no plans of stopping. I had to get used to holding my coffee mug, setting the vacuum to the side or pushing my food back just a little more to the back of the counter. These small concessions allowed Sonar to move freely and keep my possessions in tact.
In June of 2015 I made the decision to move from Cleveland to Seattle to be closer to my family. Within a matter of days the dogs and I packed up our things and drove across the country. We promptly settled in and started our new life. In October of 2015 Sonar started having some strange, concerning behavior. He started spinning in a circle and barking, unresponsive to my touch or the smell of food. These episodes would last anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes at a time with one evening having 3 in a row, at which point I rushed him to the ER that I was working at. That night there were multiple discussions about seizures and it was recommended that he stay for observation. The next morning my fear became a reality, Sonar had an odd form of epilepsy and he would need to be on anticonvulsants the rest of his life.
The first month of starting his medication was rough, he would have one seizure a week lasting up to 10 minutes. After some time and working with his neurologist, we were finally able to figure out a dose that stopped the seizures. Unfortunately due to his brain disease he developed some mild anxiety during this process and I was starting to see that my happy go lucky boy was no longer happy. This time in our life was extremely stressful and brought on a mass amounts of emotions and thoughts of having to euthanize Sonar far before I was ready to. I did some research on alternative treatments and came across CBD. After a couple weeks of starting the CBD Sonar had finally started to return to the playful, happy dog he always was before the epilepsy. I am beyond thankful that I was able to figure out a concoction of his anticonvulsants and CBD that brought him back to me. While figuring out his medication doses, I was unable to leave Sonar home alone in case he had a seizure. I was in school at the time and working at a clinic where, thankfully, he could to come with me every single day.
Sonar was doing great for a long time but in June of 2017 his seizures started to come back. He started having around 1 seizure a month for approximately 2 months when I noticed a shift in his personality. He started hiding in corners or in the bathroom, not sleeping through the night, and would not eat unless I was sitting next to him. I tried multiple anti-anxiety medications that made no difference, consulted with a number of doctors and nobody seemed to have an answer. I watched my carefree dog turn into an anxiety ridden mess and in a matter of weeks Sonar was no longer Sonar.
I had finally come to the difficult decision that I had to say goodbye to my sweet little man. On September 17, 2017 I woke up and spent the day taking Sonar to his favorite parks, meeting people and other dogs, playing in the water, and eating handfuls of his favorite foods. That evening I said my final goodbye. This was by far the hardest decision I have ever had to make. Saying goodbye to the dog that changed my life in ways that I didn’t even know were possible at only 3 years old, something I thought I would never have to do. Sitting here writing this, I am holding back the tears as this loss, a year later, still eats me up inside. Deep down I know that I did absolutely everything I could have done for Sonar and that he overcame so many odds and fought harder than most, but in the end his brain disease took control of his life.
The year following his death I refused to accept my emotions toward what had happened. I threw myself into work working 60+ hours a week, avoiding friends and family, and I became a very angry person. It was not until one day I was listening to a speech about sitting with your eyes closed and thinking about why you love yourself that I came to a realization. When I thought about that question I realized that in that moment I did not love myself. I was angry at myself — angry because I lost the love of my life, angry because I felt like I gave up on him, angry because I felt like I should have been able to do more and realized that I had ignored all of this just to get by. I knew in that moment that something needed to change.
I took a solo road trip around the state of Arizona after visiting some family. I traveled to a number of cities and was able to recognize that life is still just beautiful as it was when Sonar was here. I started to forgive myself and let myself feel again. At first I was angry, then I cried, then I started to forgive myself. I have a long road ahead of me as far as forgiving myself and accepting that I made the right decision, but I know I am on the right track.
Sonar taught and continues to teach me patience, compassion, strength, and understanding. I had to learn that things are just that, things. If he ran into something and broke it or spilled my coffee all I had to do was replace it or clean it up. There was never a need to get angry or punish him for something he had no control over. Losing him was a shock to my system as my entire day from the moment I woke up to the moment I went to sleep revolved completely around him. From giving him his medications to the route we took to get outside because he couldn’t go down stairs, and even what time I had to be home at night. My body went into survival mode and I can officially say I am finally starting to come out of it and live again.
When I first adopted Sonar I made it my mission to start his social media pages in hopes that it would help animals with special needs get some sort of attention. I never expected that people would turn to me and ask for my advice or how to deal with their pets losing their eyesight or even people telling me that they looked for his posts daily because it brought some happiness into their day. I kept up with it until the day he passed. The number of people who reached out to me via his social media was so overwhelming, I didn’t know how to react. I had absolutely no idea how much the little dog from Cleveland had affected so many people. It was amazing.
During my trip to Arizona I decided I needed to keep Sonar’s name alive somehow and it needed to mean something. I wanted to help other animals with special needs just how I helped Sonar and I also wanted to help educate the public to let them know that the fact that an animal has a special need doesn’t mean you should pass them up -- they may be the best decision you ever make.
This is the purpose and mission of The Sonar Project.
There is one person I would like to thank:
Sean Smith - Without you Sonar may have never made it out of that house and into my life. Thank you for fighting so hard for him.