Precious Buoy My mom tenderly cared for my Granny for the last five years of her life, so when Granny passed away, Mom’s hands were too empty. “Get Mom one of those dogs that looks like a little fox,” I suggested to my dad. He was reluctant at first but finally agreed to buy a Pomeranian pup from an ad. Shortly after Precious Buoy (as Mom called him) moved in, her only remaining sibling came down with an incurable disease. I watched Mom cuddle Precious during her grieving, and I knew that to her he was more than a pet. Her strokes of love and occasional kisses on his golden mane were affection she needed to release to family members she could no longer touch. Precious’ antics brought both my parents joy. He preferred that Mom not wear socks, and if she did, he worked until he pulled them off. And his favorite resting place was on the back of Dad’s chair. For the 16 years that he was a part of the family, I don’t think he ever knew he was a dog (see above). Certainly, no one ever told him. Sandra Hobson, East Bend, Surry-Yadkin EMC |
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