We all decided to let Charlie heal over the rest of the weekend here at home. True to his bulldog stubbornness, has actually started to slowly feel better and survived the most brutal dog fight I've ever had to witness. We don't blame Ham, he didn't start it and tried more than once to walk away from it. I am sure his being totally blind didn't help. Charlie has always had the worst growl ever, but never bitten any one. His bark has always been worse than his bite.
We always call Charlie "Switzerland." He was neutral and got along with everyone. Once Ham lost his sight, the dynamics for us owning three dogs dramatically changed. Ham walks slowly and with much trepidation. As long as we don't move or change anything, he does just fine. Once Charlie got even older, has become even grumpier and truly the epitome of 'grumpy old man'.
Ziggy does fine because he can see Charlie, who always picks the worst spot in the house to plop down and navigates around him. Ham always slowly picks his way across a room and sometimes if he doesn't smell Charlies' scent first before bumping into him (sprawled out like a side of beef in the middle of the floor) makes Charlie go into that angry groveling growl of his.
Guess he tried to use that technique one time too many.
Ham also gets nervous around Ziggy, who is a freakazoid at best. Young, buoyant and playful to a fault. He tried playing with Ham after he lost his sight but it always made him nervous, the way Zig was on one side of him then suddenly on the other side and just as quickly, behind him, then in front of him again.
Ham's only defense was to be on the offense, so we simply kept them apart from each other. Charlie, on the other hand, moves even slower than Ham so is easy to keep tabs on.
This is the life we've been living and dealing with for the past several years. It takes some getting used to but thought we had it down to a science.
So after Charlie's miraculous recovery from the whoopin of a lifetime, Tim remarked today that maybe we didn't need to have Sir Charles put down tomorrow.
That was all I could think of to say.
It's not that I don't love Charlie, because I do. We all do. Everyone and anyone who has ever met our gaggle of pups for the first time always comments about Charlie first.
Here's the myriad of reasons I gave Tim for sticking with our original plan.
For the past (about) ten months Charlie has tremendously struggled to even walk. During the summer months I'd bathe all three dogs out front of the house with the hose. Ziggy would almost drag me down the street and back again on his leash after his bath to dry off a bit. Even blind ole Ham had pep in his step on his turn down the street and back again. I didn't walk Charlie down the street after his bath. I pulled him... very slowly, often time having to stop and let him lay down for a sec or two.
Then came his (seemingly) night terrors. Charlie would literally moan in a fitful sleep. It was a pitiful thing to hear. He's always whined like a toddler but this sounded more like a distress signal.
The topper was when I heard him behind the love seat licking the tile floor one night, about a couple of months ago. I thought one of us had dropped something on the floor.
It almost broke my heart.
He had urinated on the floor but was trying to lick it up, seemingly knowing he had done something he wasn't supposed to do.
That, my friends, was the sign.
Even Charlie knew he was getting too old and too tired.
Lucky for us, have a wonderful friend at work who lives right up the street and is also the owner of three dogs. She has taken care of our pups twice for us when we went back home to Georgia for Massey's graduation and then again for Christmas. She knew our drill and we didn't have to worry about the dogs at all. It was a true blessing.
Then I started thinking. (yes a stretch for me)
When the dog fight suddenly happened on Friday night, wonder if I had been at home alone? It took me and Tim a good three minutes to get those two dogs apart. Three minutes doesn't sound like a lot of time but is, when two powerful dogs are locked on to each other and neither will back down.
Wonder if that had happened when Kara was dog sitting for us?
Wonder if that had happened when Massey was home alone with them?
I then thought back again about when the fight occurred. Tim had Charlie's collar and I had Ham's. I distinctly remember Tim saying "Ham's gonna kill him if we don't get them apart."
And Ham would have.
He's the strongest tank of a dog I've ever met or had. He's a gentle giant but when continually provoked, the law of nature takes over.
So here we are.
Charlie has had a good life with us here, at least I think he has, and pretty sure he would agree.
We are doing the same thing we did with our first boxer, Rosie. We kept her around while she suffered, just so we didn't have to say goodbye to her.
It is time for us to say goodbye to Sir Charles. The dog who chewed his own peep hole through the gates of the fence.
His determination has been admirable. His resilience has amazed us all. Job well done, my fat little friend.
One of my dearest friends sent me this pic today and pretty much sums up our entire situation.
After all my given arguments, Tim agreed.
First thing in the morning, Sir Charles will cross over that Rainbow Bridge and join Rosie, who we let linger too long as well.
Dogs are a huge part of our life and family. It may sound silly to peeps who have never owned one ...but encourage them to adopt one.
Dogs love without any expectations.
There is a reason DOG is GOD spelled backwards. I'm just sure of it.
This is the first post I've made in quite a while that gave me chills down the spine of my back.
Doing the right thing tomorrow morning. I'm sure of it now.
Standing by Charlie, as we watch him cross that Rainbow Bridge, joining our Rosie.
Till next time... COTTON
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