Charlie watching me intently

As many of you know, this weekend I lost my dog Charlie.  What started off as an exciting day of taking engagement pictures turned tragic when Charlie slipped off a cliff, fell into the river and drowned.  It was more awful than I can describe, especially because we had to watch helplessly as it happened, and it’s been very hard dealing with the loss.  But I don’t want to remember Charlie that way.  I want to do everything I can to remember him how he was (even though it’s still surreal to talk about him in the past tense).

Doing what he loved

I grew up with dogs, but Charlie was the first dog that was truly mine.  I adopted him from the animal shelter in July of ’04.  I had every intention of adopting a rottweiler, but something about that little guy just intrigued me.  He had these eyes that would just follow my every move, so finally I asked a shelter employee if I could see him.  We went out into the courtyard and I sat on the ground.  He walked straight over to me, laid down in front of me, and put his chin on my lap.  It was all over then.  I had to adopt him.  After I had signed all the paperwork, I found out he was scheduled to be put down within the next few days, so it was definitely meant to be.

Turns out Charlie was a character. Almost anyone I’ve met in the last seven years could tell you a story about him.  All dogs have quirks, but Charlie was one in a million.  Instead of running normally, he would hop like a deer.  When he would sleep, he would always end up on his back with his mouth wide open.  He snored like an old man and often yelped in his sleep.  He didn’t care much for other dogs (he didn’t hate them, he was just disinterested in them), but he loved being around people.  When I was upset, he would always come cuddle with me.  He could hold a grudge like no other; my mom clipped his toenails when I first got him, and he hated her for a good four years after that.  We never figured out exactly what breed he was, or how old he was, but that didn’t matter.   He was my little shadow, a great hiking partner, a comforting presence when I was upset, a clown, and one of the best friends I could ask for.


It’s been comforting to hear so many of my friends tell me something cute or funny that they remember about him.  I love that little guy, and he will be greatly missed.

Charlie and Pasha cuddling