For the Love of Charlie!

I can hardly remember a time when there wasn't a dog in my life. 

Among the more memorable were: Huckleberry Hound Dog who made an art out of avoiding the dog catcher's snare; Zigzag the Beautiful, a faithful dog who unfortunately jumped the fence to chase loaded dirt trucks; Toby the German Shepherd who jumped the neighbor's six foot fence to get to the "girls"; and Jock, a pound puppy who had first belonged to some college boys and thus had an unnatural fear of beer. The one thing that the dogs in my life had always had in common was that they were all large. That fact combined with the fact that I am not a "good pack leader" eventually led me to conclude that I should never again be the owner of a big dog, even if that was what the family desired. Even if the kids begged and begged and pleaded. Even if they brought one home and tried to seduce me with its huge sad eyes and puppy breath.

So when Jock died after eleven years, I was foot-lose and fancy-dog-free for a time. No more worries. No more missing coffee table legs, no more chewed up shoes or angry neighbors cursing at the kids over dog poop in their yards. After a couple of years without a family dog, however, I began to reconsider dog ownership. I didn't reconsider getting a big dog. A small dog would be a more appropriate selection. After all, the children were all in school leaving me rather lonely. And the front yard was surrounded by a picket fence, making it easy to keep a small dog away from the road, the cars, the neighbors and the neighbor's girl dogs.

So along came Charlie Brave and True. AKA, Charlie Habanero Klein, AKC. Chili Dog, Chuck, and in his later years, "the little fat one".

Charlie was four months old when we adopted him. He looked like a German Shepherd. A six pound trembling German Shepherd with large ears. He was so frightened on that first day that he shivered uncontrollably. Surrounded by my three very excited youngest daughters, it must was overwhelming to be five inches at the sholder and the center of such attention. Especially after having spent several months in the quiet of a pet store window. We took Little Charlie into the yard and sat him down on the grass. He sniffed the soil beneath his paws and began to dig. Like a crazy dog. Dirt flying every whichaway. It was the end of the shivering, and the start of those famous family words, "Dig, Charlie! Dig!"

For some of the males in the house, those first doggie walks were hard on their fragile manly egos. Especially Bill's. He found walking such a small dog to be a humbling, humiliating experience compared to walking a large, ferocious beast who lunged at little old ladies as they passed by with their finely quaffed toy poodles. But it wasn't long before Bill and the other men in the house learned that little tiny dogs have enormous personalities. Chihuahuas are big dogs that come in little packages. They are intellegent and energetic, loyal and brave. Charlie loved people (especially babies). He licked our children's tears away. He danced in the kitchen with the rest of us.

We had Charlie for 16 years before he went on to doggie heaven.  Actually I didn't want to make you sad, but he died just yesterday, after several months of deterioriating health. He was a very old little man, so we had been expecting it. Bill and I buried him in the garden that he loved so much. The garden where he stood his ground with the UPS man, the mail man and any salesman that dared open the gate. The garden where he dug in the dirt and under the fence to go for leasurely walks in the neighborhood, and where he greeted us after a day of shopping.

Charlie was a great little dog and we will indeed miss him.

deber

PS, A note about little dogs: As with all dogs, Chihuahuas must be taught how to behave in public. But unlike large dogs, the public often has to be taught how to behave with them. Men in particular, seem to get the urge to assert dominance over small dogs. They chase, growl and bark at them. They pull their ears and tails. Then they laugh. Ha, ha, ha! That's how you turn a small dog into a mean dog. Think about it. What would happen if a person treated a big dog in such a way? That big dog would start acting like a mean Chihuahua, only with bigger teeth and a deeper voice.