So, I have taken to talking to a pillow that looks like Grandpup Bonnie. Of course, as some of you know, it was my great responsibility for nearly two years to take care of my adult daughter’s dog, a King Charles Cavalier spaniel named Proudfox
Eugenia Victoria or some such affectation chosen by said daughter, with the Eugenia Victoria in honor of that tragic child, nicknamed Bonnie Blue, in Margaret Mitchell’s “Gone With the Wind.”
As you also may recall, when my daughter finally got settled in New Orleans earlier this spring, I “returned” Bonnie to her Mama, which was a little poignant but necessary because she is my daughter’s dog, not mine.
Lordy, people have asked me: How could you give her back? Of course, I miss her but she was a great responsibility, and as I told them, if I wanted a dog, I’d get myself a dog.
One man, a friend of my eccentric sister in Florida, told me that if somebody had taken his dog, he’d kill them.
Oooh, a little bit strong for me. But I assured him, Bonnie wasn’t my dog to begin with. She was just in my safekeeping, even though it was a good while.
And so, now Miss Bon and I enjoy those occasional bonding moments when she visits up here or I venture south to the Big Easy. It’s a bit like Grandma Time, for Nana and Bonnie.
For my recent birthday, my sister sent me all kinds of crazy things in the mail. I was most amused.
Then, this fairly good-sized box arrived from her and I thought, goodness, this is really going overboard, but I am still older than she is. Perhaps she’s just gone overly generous for thanks that she’s still 11 months on my other side.
From out of the box, I pulled this very nice pillow, which looks really fine on my living room couch.
On the nubby, tan front of the pillow is the likeness of a King Charles Cavalier spaniel. If you know anything about these dogs, today’s iteration comes from only six dogs in England, and thus, many of them look just alike.
So, to say that the pillow looks like Bonnie is quite accurate.
I’ve caught my breath a time or two as I’ve walked out of my bedroom to “think” I see Bonnie sitting on the couch, as she so often likes to do in real life.
We’ve spent a whole lot of time snuggling on that couch, so to “see” her there shouldn’t be too odd, my poor brain tells me.
So, frankly, I’ve decided not to fight the feeling.
That means Pillow Bonnie and I carry on conversations. Of course, they are one-sided, but they would have been pretty much one-sided anyway since Bonnie doesn’t talk a lot in real time.
It’s almost like having a pet, except I don’t have to walk her and she doesn’t shed all over the house.
I speak to Pillow Bonnie just like I usually do. We talk about my day and whatever else we’d like to.
This situation became a real laugher the other night, so I texted my sister to thank her for Pillow Bonnie and told her we were having a great time.
She responded with equal enthusiasm, saying that’s exactly what she’d hoped, since my sister is a real dog-lover and can’t imagine herself without one immediately at hand. Hers is a robust Boston terrier named Winnie, who is far from being a pillow.
Vive la difference!
PATSY R. BRUMFIELD writes a Thursday column. Contact her at (662) 678-1596 or firstname.lastname@example.org.