A Really Good Boy - A remembrance of Charlie

Charlie

July 7, 2025

“You think those dogs will not be in heaven! I tell you they will be there long before any of us.”

-Robert Louis Stevenson

Charlie, our 14 year old coon hound mix, had been struggling these last few weeks.   He found it increasingly hard to catch his breath with the slightest exertion, his hind legs shook and bowed when standing, he began peeing regularly in the house, and movement appeared to cause him pain as he would occasionally drag his back paws.

It was increasingly obvious the rich abundant quality of life he was enjoying was passing.  We kept waiting for some cardinal event to tell us what to do.   Just when we think we were seeing it, he would have brief rally, only to return to the cycle of difficultly breathing and pain with walking. 

It was time.   His race was run and he needed rest.   This afternoon he crossed over to the other side without pain and at peace.  His breathing at last slowed. He was free from his suffering.

We cried hard. He had been with us over 12 memorable years.  As I got home from the doctor, the house seemed strangely empty. We didn't realize how large a presence he was in the house until after he was gone. It was too quiet.    

He was a beautiful dog.  He made our lives richer and we will miss him terribly.

Charlie entered our life in an unusual way.  We did not seek him out.  Instead he found us.  Colleen was out in the garden on a warm day when she turned around to find a large dog immediately behind her.   After initially being startled,  she could see immediately that he was no threat.  He was lean, muscular, with a black body, a coffee colored head and long noble snout capped with a white nose.  But  that was not his most impressive feature.  He had large soulful eyes and extraordinarily expressive eye brows.   Despite his size, he was absurdly gentle and invited you to love him.

We did not know where he came from.  After a few hours with us we eventually drove around the area and found his home some 3 miles from us and returned him.  He ran all the way here.  We went back to our lives but a few days later he showed up again this time with his mother the boxer in tow.   It felt like he wanted to show her our home.   

Once again we returned him to his home.  This time we had grown fond of him and offered to buy him from the owner.  He declined telling us how much he wanted the dog and we left thinking the matter was closed.

About a month later he called me, “Still want the dog?”  We did and suddenly our family grew.  Although we were excited, our Basset Hound, “Flash”, was most assuredly not enthusiastic.

If Charlie had a single characteristic it would have to be gentleness.  Despite the fact he was considerably larger than Flash, he submitted to his grumpy and irritable nature and settled in as our very large auxiliary back up dog.

He could easily have chosen to be aggressive but he never was to any dog.  He would initiate play behavior with any dog he met.  If he ever showed aggression it was only to mailmen, whom he had unrelenting hostile feelings.  What prompted this passion we never knew, but he never wavered in his hatred for them.  Thus, every delivery was a bit of an adventure for us.

Despite his deliveryman psychosis, he was gentle, kind, and playful with everyone else.  He greeted every dog, guest, and child with submissive kindness.  You just knew there was nothing to fear with him.  He loved you and wanted you to know it.  He would crawl on the couch with us while watching TV, stretch out his long frame, and with soulful eyes invite you to pet him.  He loved to go to a dog park and would out run most dogs in the enclosure in a joyous game of “zoomies.”    He was so fast. 

During his long life he had many adventures. Perhaps the most exciting for him was when he was younger he spent a couple of years with Stephen as he began his post graduate training in Northern Arizona. Stephen was dealing with a bad case of homesickness and Charlie guided him through it. They deeply bonded as they hiked the San Francisco peaks that circle Flagstaff, Arizona. As Stephen's career progressed he could no longer keep Charlie, so he returned home again to us, much to Flash's disappoinment. His work with Stephen was done. Stephen was stronger now thanks to the love of this beautiful dog.

It is an odd experience to watch a dog age in front of you. While you feel you are holding your own, the dog reminds you that time has an inexorable march and the dog’s physical difficulties mirror your own.   I feel it more every day. He was 80 years old in human years when he died. I doubt I will make it that far.

On his last walk this morning, he started off gamely to try to keep up.   However, shortly he grew weary and could only finish a short distance.I needed to get him home.

In his final months he became deaf.   He would try to find some quiet cool place to rest where he could see you.  Knowing you were near by seemed to give him comfort.  

He loved days when I mowed our large front lawn.  He would wait until I finished the center and he would slowly walk out to a sunny warm spot on the freshly mowed grass and sit surveying the world.   New smells would drift by and he seemed at peace.

I think I know what he spent that time thinking about.

He was remembering his glory days, when he could run like the wind.

3 weeks ago