This is the story of Barney, my loyal companion and best friend for nearly 17 years. There were so many lessons in pet ownership that we learned over the years. Some were easy, but others required a lot of research and heartache. Initially, Barney wasn’t meant to be my dog; we got him as a buddy for our 4-year-old daughter. He joined our family at just seven weeks old, sparking the first disagreement between my husband and me—I felt our daughter was too young, but my husband disagreed and ultimately prevailed. Looking back, I’m grateful he did. Our daughter chose Barney from a litter of five; he was the most adorable little black furball. We believed a Pomeranian would be a perfect first best friend for our daughter and an excellent addition to our family.
While our daughter initially adored Barney, her enthusiasm diminished, and she became reluctant to share her toys with him. She disliked being interrupted from her activities to take him outside or provide food and water, let alone groom him. This is common among children, so keep this in mind when considering a family pet. Meanwhile, Barney preferred to stay by my side when I was home. We shared an unspoken bond. My husband and daughter were very close, and Barney and I understood that we were secondary. I believe that people don’t own dogs; they form partnerships where both develop a deep sense of love and loyalty to each other.
Here are some general traits of Pomeranians. They are known for their stubborn nature and can be challenging to potty train and crate train. Many exhibit “small dog” syndrome, believing they are larger than they actually are. Pomeranians tend to bark frequently. For example, when you first entered my home, Barney would bark—not as an alarm, but as a way of demanding attention, a greeting, or a pet. After the initial acknowledgment, he would quiet down. Barney considered everyone—people, dogs, cats, etc.—as his friends. I like to imagine that if he were human, he would be the life of the party.
Pomeranians require extensive grooming and need daily brushing. When our adorable little black dog got fleas at three months old, I panicked. We flea-bombed the house and gave the puppy numerous flea baths. Unfortunately, he had a reaction to the flea baths, resulting in persistent skin irritation and severe shedding (which is common for Pomeranians). When he turned three, we began shaving him during the summer, which significantly helped. This also meant we no longer had to brush him daily.
Barney had a keen sense of when I would arrive home from work. He would perch at the end of the couch, gazing out the window, eagerly awaiting my car in the driveway. This ensured he got the first precious five minutes with me, a ritual we fondly called “Barney time.” If he didn’t get this attention, he would run circles around me, barking incessantly, simply craving acknowledgment. Typically, he would trail behind me to my bedroom, and we would “chat” as I changed my clothes.
When the pandemic struck, I remained at home, and Barney began shadowing me throughout the house. He developed separation anxiety. Unbeknownst to us, he was simultaneously losing his vision and hearing. Due to the pandemic, we missed a vet appointment, and by the time we managed to get him in, he was nearly blind and partially deaf. This behavior explained why he constantly followed me indoors and adhered to a strict routine in the yard. I initially believed it showcased his intelligence, but it was actually his coping mechanism.
In 2022, he wandered into the neighbors’ yard and couldn’t hear me calling. Unable to see his way back, he panicked. When I reached him, he was in distress, but I brought him inside, and he eventually calmed down. Two weeks later, it happened again. After that, he was no longer allowed to go out alone.
In April 2023, he developed a hernia. We brought him to the vet, who informed us that surgery was our only option. However, there was a significant risk he might not survive the procedure. The vet provided medication to manage his pain while my husband and I weighed our options. We considered his quality of life, the cost of the surgery, and the possibility that he might not make it through.
I held his paw as the doctor gave the shot to put him to sleep. I didn’t want him to feel scared or alone. Over a year has passed, and I still think about him every day. Losing your best friend means losing a piece of yourself. I often wonder if I would make the same decision if I had to do it all over again. Ultimately, I would. Barney had a good life, and I don’t think he would want to be a burden or see me in pain, just as I wouldn’t want to see him suffer to stay with me.
Marie