Care Companions

EDWINA PERKINS

Orlando, Florida

THE SOUND of whimpering woke me in the middle of the night. It was our 11-month-old bichon-poodle puppy, Beethoven. He sniffed at our closed bedroom door. He had never done that before. You already went outside, I thought. What could it be now—an upset tummy?

I rose to take him downstairs for another bathroom break, when I heard a noise in the hallway. I opened the door. My mother-in-law, Stevie, stood there, looking confused.

Mom had moved in with us a couple of days earlier, and the house was still new to her. She was totally healthy except for her memory—she had dementia. We had planned to move her into a care facility in her hometown of Seattle, but she refused to go.

“I think God wants her to come live with us,” I said to my husband.

“If you’re sure,” he said. We already had four kids and a puppy in the house, but we