I first laid eyes on her when she was just 2 months old. She was sitting in a crate at the airport and looked frightened. I had wanted a bearded collie for so long and finally I was meeting my puppy! We got her outside and let her out of the crate. She was so outgoing, friendly and sweet; I was instantly in love. Her name was Charlotte and it was the end of my 9th grade year.
Michael was only 6 months old when I got my precious puppy. My parents were smart getting her that summer. Every morning she woke me up around 5:30 am for her breakfast and to go out. Like clockwork Michael would always wake up about a half hour later. I would go fetch him out of his crib, change his diaper and feed him a bottle. That is how the rest of my summer went and that is how my mom got to sleep in every day!
Charlotte was great with Michael. She shared her chew toys with him and was happy to let him share her cage.
Over the next year she grew into a gangly shaggy dog. It took a couple years for her full coat to come in. When it did she was quite beautiful.
She also grew up to be one of the most mischievous dogs known to mankind. She could raid a trash can in record shattering speeds. She would steal food right off the counter too. I have lost count how many breakfasts were lost to her.
She was a smart dog too. Too smart was the problem. She learned all sorts of tricks- good and bad. She learned her commands but those were too boring so I taught her to do them using sign language. Sign language that I made up that is. She could sit, stay, come, lay down, and speak without me ever uttering a word! Oh and that speak command. She taught me to never ever teach that to another dog! She would speak at any given moment in hopes of getting a treat, oh what a pain.
Although she was too smart for her own good and naughty as can be, she was a good dog. She was always at my heels. If I left the room she followed; she was my dog.
She was kind. Especially with children. She was so soft and gentle around babies and little kids. The little baby next door would crawl to her, grab her hair, and pull himself to the standing position. I know it hurt to have her hair yanked like that, but she watched him like an old grandmother and helped him stand.
I always referred to her as a sorority type girl. So social and outgoing. She was everyones friend. Charlotte never knew a stranger. I always joked that she would let the burglars in, if given the chance, and help them carry the stereo out.
Eventually I had to go to college. My first year I had to stay in the dorm, so I had to leave my dog at home. It was a long year. She had a bit of separation anxiety. When I was gone she would chew things up and misbehave. My second year I moved into an apartment and from then on she was forever by my side. She watched me graduate high school and go to Clemson. She was there when I got my acceptance letter to Georgia. She was dragged along with me to vet school. Not once did she complain about the irregularity in her life; she just followed along happily and wagged her tail.
Looking back I realize that Charlotte was my home away from home all that time. My life was always changing but at the end of the day there was always the same old Charlotte waiting for me.
I eventually started dating Eric and she happily accepted him. She and Eric knew who came first! Eric quickly learned that Charlotte was part of the package; it was all or nothing. He even nicknamed her Charlittle. It was through Charlittle that Eric learned about the bond between a person and their dog. My first year in vet school he looked at me one day and told me he wanted a dog. He knew Charlotte would never be 'his' dog. He wanted a dog that would be 'his' dog - what he wanted was the bond that we shared. Because of that Rocky came into our lives and quickly became 'his' dog. Eric then learned what it is like to have a dog. Thank you Charlotte for showing him that.
The years have flown by. My Charlotte has gotten old. She's been like a cat with nine lives. She's been kicked by a horse, she gone through two surgeries to remove inedible objects from her stomach, and she's even had a couple knee surgeries. In the end its taken a toll on her. She's spent the last couple years just sleeping her days away. She quit chasing Rocky long ago and has no longer been able to go on walks with us. Her body has gotten old and painful. It has pained me terribly to see her go through this over the last year especially. It has been incredibly hard to make the decision as to when enough is enough. I will never know if my decision was right for her and that is what hurts me the most. Was it too soon, was it too late, was it even the right decision? Only God knows the answer I suppose. I have spent many a time advising other people on making this decision- it's always so easy to help someone else make that decision, but having to ask myself I am filled with incredible doubt. And the answer is - I don't know. I just pray it is right.
Today I layed my beloved friend to rest. All I ask is that God please take care of my friend. Also, God don't turn your back on your breakfast for it will quickly be gone!
April 26, 1997 - November 15, 2010
"I think I could turn and live my life with animals, they are so placid and self contained, I stand and look at them long and long, they do not sweat and whine about their condition, they do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, they do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things. Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that liveth thousands of years ago, not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole world."
-Walt Whitman
