It all started in June of 1995. We had to put our miniature Poodle, Benji down and sadness can’t even come close to what my heart was feeling. My mom new it would kill me so she decided not to tell me until I got home from working at my retail job. My heart hurt so much I couldn’t handle being in the house.
Going to work and moping around the house became my job until my friend Kasandra called me and brought absolute sunshine into my life. I could barely contain myself when she began telling me that her female Pomeranian gave birth to 3 little puppies… two boys and a girl. I really wanted the girl but my friend thought she had the genes to be a great show dog. One of the boy’s was already spoken for… So when I saw my little redhead Pooh, I couldn’t wait to take him home.
I was going to call him CB, short for charlie brown but when my Mom took one look at him she exclaimed that he looked like a little Pooh Bear, he did… and it stuck. So he is forever known as Pooh. I know this sounds weird, but before i got Pooh I had a wagon next to my bed. I was hoping that he would find it comfortable and it would become his bed and he could sleep near me.
Well, Pooh had other plans. Although the wagon seemed lie a good place to sleep he decided he would be better off sleeping n my bed. I tried to explain to him that Pommy’s go in the wagon bed and Mommy’s sleep in the big bed. For some reason he just wasn’t going for it. Every night he would jump up onto the bed from his wagon. I would put him back and the next night he would try it again. Pooh wore me down… and on the 5th night, my bed became his bed.
Before we got Pooh, we had a Powder Puff Chinese Crested named Princess… and boy was she a princess… and a very good show dog. In 2007 she became very sick and we tried everything but we eventually had to put her down. It was very traumatic to Pooh. Everyday my Mom would watch Pooh go out through the doggie door and just sit out there staring into space. It was very disheartening. We thought… he must be waiting for his puffy little buddy, Princess. He would wait and she never came. We never had doggie doors until my Dad had a stroke and my Mom wound up in a wheel chair… my uncle put them in so the babies could go out to go potty. It was a big help when I was working.
My mother watched little Pooh, day after day sitting outside staring into space waiting for his little Princess who would never come. Mom thought it would be a good idea to get Pooh a friend. At first I thought the idea was not a good one… but slowly I warmed up to the idea because it really looked like Pooh needed a friend besides us humans.
My friend had another litter and my little boy Mater was born in October but I wasn’t allowed to take him home until a week before Thanksgiving. It felt like eternity. When he came home, I immediately taught him to use the doggie door… it was hilarious because all day long Thanksgiving day was… in and out, in and out… in and out of that doggie door. He finally got tired at 9 pm at night.
At first Mater was named “Squeaky” because he had a great love of “Squeaky” toys… and would squeak them whenever he could. One time Mater watched Pooh take off my socks and then he had to join in… so now every night Pooh and Mater take turns taking off my socks.
On Mother’s Day 2009 I lost my Mom. So it was the two boys, my dad and me… the only female, a little to much testosterone… even if two of the males were Pomeranians. So, I thought the house should have a little more female representation… I started looking in the papers for a female Pomeranian and low and behold, little Penny was born and available.
Six weeks and 1.5lbs later, I was able to take her home… we named her Penny after my Mom.
All my Pomeranians are happy and bring me so much joy even after my Mom passed. I feel sad because I love my Mom so much, but my 3 babies keep that love alive everyday.
I have been told I won’t have kids… and that’s O.K. because I have the best furry children in the world. I love being a Pommy Mommy to my three furry babies… Pooh 18, Mater 6, and Penny who is 2 years old. All of my furry babies may not have been rescues but I can tell you one thing… they rescued me… and I am grateful.