She leaned over to kiss a dog, hit her head, and regained her sight after 13 years of blindness (13 photos)

On a November evening in 2000, 24-year-old Lisa Reed of Oakland leaned over to kiss her guide dog, lost her balance, and hit her head on the coffee table. Not hard. She went to bed, not thinking much of it. The next morning, she woke up and saw the world. It became one of the most inexplicable medical cases in history: 13 years of complete blindness—and then suddenly, light. The dog didn't intentionally save her. It was simply there. We tell the stories of Lisa, Ami, and other dogs who changed their owners' lives—accidentally or not.





13 Years of Darkness

At age 11, Lisa Reed was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. The surgery was successful: the tumor was removed, saving her life. But her optic nerves, compressed by the tumor, were irreversibly damaged. "My ophthalmologist told me point-blank that I would never see again," she later told ABC News. The darkness came gradually. By age 24, Lisa had been living in complete darkness for 13 years.



At 21, Lisa received a guide dog named Ami—and was finally able to leave the house alone.

She received support from the New Zealand Blind Foundation. At 21, Lisa received a Labrador retriever named Ami—and, she says, it changed everything. "She gave me my confidence back. Thanks to her, I felt like myself again," Lisa said. Ami became her connection to the city, to people, to movement. Without a guide dog, every trip outside required an assistant. With Ami, Lisa walked alone.

A Night No One Can Explain

In November 2000, Lisa was getting ready for bed as usual. She leaned over to kiss Ami goodnight, lost her balance, and hit her head on the floor and the coffee table at the same time. "I just lost my balance," she would later say. Her head hurt, but not badly. She went to bed.





Lisa and Ami, 2000. The morning after the fall, Lisa saw the world around her for the first time in a long time.

She woke up at 9:30 a.m. that morning and realized she could see. At first, she didn't believe it. She spent several hours in the yard playing with Ami. Then she called her mother and read the warning on the cigarette pack aloud. Ophthalmologist Ross Mackay from Auckland Hospital confirmed that 80 percent of the vision in her left eye had been restored. The tumor had not gone away. The nerves were still damaged. The mechanism of recovery has yet to be determined. "Nobody knows what happened. Nobody can explain it," Lisa told the Daily Mail many years later.



Liza's daughter goes by the middle name Ami, in memory of the dog who was by her side during the most difficult years.

One of the first shocks was her brother's face. "He's become a man. With a goatee. My brother is a man," she said. Liza saw her mother just like her, only older. She saw herself as a grown woman, whom she didn't remember.

Ami: 11 Years by Her Side

After that November night, Liza didn't stop needing a guide dog—her vision was partially restored, and Ami continued working. They spent 11 years together. When Ami died in 2011, Lisa wrote about it publicly.



A guide dog wears a special harness—a signal to others that the animal is working and should not be distracted.

Lisa's next guide dog was a Labrador named Heidi. In an interview with the NZ Herald, Lisa spoke of the Blind Foundation: "They gave me freedom and independence. I would have been lost without them." She called Ami not just her dog, but her eyes.



After Ami, Lisa's Labrador, Heidi, became her guide dog—her third dog.

"No one knows what happened or can explain it. Words cannot describe what it's like to be blind and then suddenly see the world again." — Lisa Reed

Figo: Between the Owner and the Bus

On June 8, 2015, 62-year-old Audrey Stone of Brewster, New York, was going on her daily walk with her golden retriever, Figo. The 8-year-old dog, trained by the Guide Dog Foundation, had been working with her for six years. They were crossing North Main Street when a school bus appeared around the corner. The driver didn't notice the pedestrians.



Figo is an 8-year-old golden retriever from Brewster. After the incident on North Main Street, he was named ASPCA Dog of the Year.

Witnesses saw Figo swerve from his owner's right side to her left, right in front of the wheels. The bus hit both of them. Audrey suffered a broken ankle, elbow, and three broken ribs. Figo suffered a broken front leg and a wound to the bone. When paramedics arrived, the dog was lying next to Audrey, on three legs, reaching for her.

"You can't touch an injured guard dog. They're usually aggressive. But this dog wasn't," said Brewster Police Chief John Del Gardo.



Audrey and Figo spent four months recovering separately. When they met again, they could barely walk.

An anonymous donor paid for Figo's surgery. The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA) named him "Dog of the Year." A bus driver carrying two kindergarteners received a ticket for failing to yield to a pedestrian.

Roselle and September 11th

Michael Hingson was born blind. He studied physics at the University of California, Irvine, built a career in IT, and by 2001 was working as a regional director for Quantum/ATL. His office was on the 78th floor of the North Tower of the World Trade Center. His Labrador retriever, Roselle—his fifth guide dog—worked nearby every day.



Michael Hingson and Roselle — both received awards in 2002 for their actions on September 11, 2001

On the morning of September 11, 2001, Roselle was sleeping under Hingson's desk when American Airlines Flight 11 crashed into the tower, 15 stories above. The tower rocked. Hingson heard an explosion. He noticed Roselle yawning and wagging her tail. "If Roselle had panicked, I would have panicked too," Michael later said. The owner and dog began evacuating.



Hingson and Rozelle climbed 1,463 steps. On the way down, they encountered firefighters—many of whom didn't get out.

1,463 steps. On the way down, they encountered firefighters. At the 50th floor, one of the women stopped and said they were all going to die. Hingson replied, "If Rozelle and I are going down, you might as well." Rozelle licked her face. The woman continued walking. They exited the building. The North Tower collapsed a few minutes later.



The Dickin Medal is the equivalent of the St. George Cross for animals. Rozelle received it on March 5, 2002, along with her Labrador, Salty.

In 2002, Rozelle received the Dickin Medal, the highest military award for animals, awarded by the British organization PDSA (People's Dispensary for Sick Animals) since 1943. In 2011, Hingson wrote a book about her, "Thunder Dog," which became a #1 New York Times bestseller. The book has sold over 2.5 million copies. Roselle died on June 26, 2011, at the age of 13.

Why do they do this—and are they aware of their heroism?

Training a single dog-owner pair costs organizations between $40,000 and $60,000. Dogs are taught to stop at curbs, avoid obstacles, and ignore distracting odors. But throwing themselves under a bus—that's certainly not in the program.



Future guide dogs begin training at eight weeks. The full course lasts about two years and includes hundreds of hours of practice.

"I can't explain this behavior." "Whether the dog risked his life consciously or not, it's astonishing," said the veterinarian who observed Figo after the accident. Researchers debate whether this is a deep protective instinct, the result of years of conditioned reflexes, or something else for which science hasn't yet found a precise name.



For many blind people, a guide dog is the only way to move independently without assistance.

The story of Lisa and Ami doesn't fit into any category at all. Ami wasn't doing anything special that November evening in 2000. She simply lay next to her. Lisa reached out to her—and everything changed. Lisa's daughter has Ami as her middle name. That seems to say enough.

Do you know any stories about dogs that changed someone's life? Share them in the comments.