Charlie

We ended the life of our sweet little dog Charlie today.  It’s a hard loss, but it was time.  We have a lovely friend who is a vet and does euthanasia at home, which is really a gift.  We called her out late in February after Charlie had refused food for two days – he was 17, and we knew he was coming to the end.  Julie came out and Charlie perked up a little.  She gave him a tiny piece of a treat and he took it, and then took the food he had been refusing.  It felt like a miracle.  We got three more weeks with Charlie, but the reprieve is over.  Julie came out tonight and tenderly eased him through the end.

Charlie was a wonderful pet.  My daughter Liz initially rescued him before her first child was born.  Asher did great with Charlie, but when Rowan was old enough to crawl he was relentless about playing with Charlie, pulling his ears and tail.  Charlie treated him the way a dog treats a puppy who misbehaves, he gave him a warning nip.  We had always loved Charlie, and Jay had a special bond with him from the first.  So it was natural for Liz to ask if we would keep Charlie while she tried to figure out what to do.  We said we’d make it permanent, and he’s been ours for the last ten and a half years.

Charlie has been across the country with us three times on trailer trips.  He’s slept with us every night, in trailers, in hotel rooms, and in the six homes we lived in over those years.  When he was young he was mad for chasing a ball.  He and Hazel (the cat) were our constant companions during covid, and there were many days before we were vaccinated when they were our only companions.

Charlie had a magnetic personality – everyone took to him.  When we lived in Pleasant Hill, where I knew almost no one, Charlie was my ambassador.  We walked along the canal trail a couple of times a day and he helped me make friends with a dozen neighbors – dog owners and dog lovers.  He was great at creating community.  

Charlie filled our homes with small sounds, the sound of his snoring during naps and at night, the clicking of his toenails alerting me that he was on the move and probably wanting something.  His needs were simple, but an essential part of the rhythm of our days – food, water, walks, play, snuggles – although play had not been part of his days for the last few months. 

I don’t think we choose who to love, human or animal.  I think some channel opens between two beings unbidden, for reasons we don’t understand.  Charlie clearly loved us, and we loved him.  It’s been challenging watching him fail, especially this past very cold winter.  His walks were short, and his pleasure in them minimal.  But I think back to all the years Charlie and I walked together, to all he taught me about enjoying a walk and giving it my full attention.  It’s hard to think about getting into bed without him tonight.

The best of dogs.