Andy was quite attached to my mom when he was a puppy. Eventually, their relationship returned to that state. My mom took a bigger role in caring for him, giving him food and medicines. Andy would gaze at her the way he did in his youth, a wide-eyed fixation. I didn’t grow jealous because I knew in a year that I’d be moving from Raleigh. Having Andy in good care with someone he loved took high importance to me.
In the mornings, my mom woke up earlier than I did. We took ‘shifts’ looking after my dad. My mom did quite a bit in the morning, afternoon and evening. I did my part in the evening. I’d stay up until 3 or 4 in the morning to keep an eye on him. Sometimes my dad became confused and would do loopy things in his bewildered state. I’d also check on him to see if he needed food or drink. Dialysis limited his mobility and he had to stay in his room once it started. He was captive in that room for 10 hours a day.
When my mom woke up, Andy would go the door between the dining room and kitchen. He would stand there watching her every move. My mom would take that opportunity to give him his medicines hidden in food (“tooties”). She would open the door and hand him food. Normally, I’d be sleeping but sometimes I would drift out sleep to hear Andy chomping on his tooty. Other times, I could see his tail wagging as my mom approached the door. I’d fall back asleep, usually.
My mom would also let Andy out the other door and outside so he could use the bathroom. Andy would immediately return to the living room by the couch beside me and sleep. He was my little soldier being loyal to me. When I woke up, he would go in the den with my mom.
I had to share Andy with someone. I knew eventually, I would have to let him go. I was going to move and he was not able to make the trip with me. I was glad he would be with my mom. The lala’d each other a whole lot.
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