When I had to move to a place where pets weren't accepted, my mother volunteered to "babysit" my litte Pomeranian, Buddy. She and Buddy, I told her, were the same color! She had just lost her beloved Dally, and was convinced she didn't want another dog, but she always wanted to help me out. Buddy was my son, Kevin's dog, but when Kevin died at age 13, he became mine. I gave Mom a picture of Kevin holding Buddy, and she put Dally's picture along side the frame. She told me she made a deal with Kevin--if he would keep an eye on Dally, she would take good care of Buddy. She kept her promise. She loved that little dog and spoiled him rotten. At breakfast, she would make herself two eggs, two strips of bacon, and a slice of toast. Buddy would get one of the eggs and one of the strips of bacon. She walked him and brushed him, and made sure his teeth were clean. She even bought him an electric tooth brush! At bedtime, she gave him the "other" bed, and she made sure he had a carrot before she tucked him in. After about a month of Buddy living with Mom,I realized he was no longer my dog--he only had eyes for her. If I asked him if he wanted to go out, he would run to her and bark for permission. He would sit by her, and if I picked him up, he would glance at her nervously, perhaps with fear that I would take him back at some point. After I saw how he loved her, I couldn't ever take him away from her.
When she got sick, her biggest fear was who would care for Buddy. We promised her that we would take care of him, and now he's living with me again. I know he misses her--I can see the confusion in his eyes every so often. I hug him so tight, because I know that by doing so, I'm keeping my mom just a little bit closer to me. Just as she promised Kevin she would watch Buddy if he watched Dally for her, I'm going to watch Buddy for Mom, because I know she's up there taking care of my Kevin for me.
