Mother and Buzzy
My son John lives to torment my mother. Buzzy, our American Eskimo Dog sheds incessantly, making up vacuum every day to stay ahead of him. One day my husband Bud noticed a big paper bag on the mantle stuff full of Buzzy’s combings, hair pulled from his brush, and hair swept from the floor. Amazed, Bud asked, “What in the world is this bag of dog hair doing up here?”
Mother chimed in, “Oh, that’s Buzzy’s hair I saved up for your sweater.”
This was the first Bud had heard of his dog hair sweater. He thought maybe Mother had finally come unhinged. “What dog hair sweater?”
“The one you’re going to get the woman at work to make for you out of Buzzy’s hair.” Mother thought Bud was losing it. “John told me to be careful to gather up all the hair I could find every time I came over so that woman you work with…
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