I Had a Dog and His Name was Charlie

(Excerpt from ON THE WAY TO THE PICNIC)
TAKE THIS CUP
Another time I prayed to have something taken out of my hands was when my dear Charlie pup was alive. When Charlie got on in years, I first prayed to God not to take him away. I would miss him too much. These prayers began as I took Charlie for a walk at night and found myself looking up at one of the brightest stars in the sky, it is called Sirius, and I learned this was referred to as the “dog star.”
As time progressed and it was clear that Charlie wasn’t improving in health, but in fact beginning to suffer, then my prayer changed to, “Please take him, because I do not have the heart to do it myself.” I didn’t know when or how to proceed. I didn’t want to take him into the veterinarian because the one place he feared the most was the veterinary hospital. In fact he was a good pup—that is until it came time for his doctor’s appointment to receive his yearly vaccination. His record was marked “He will bite”, and he had such a bad reputation that the veterinarian would come outside of the building to administer the shot there to make it easier for all concerned. You can imagine then why I didn’t want to bring Charlie to the hospital for the last moments of his life.
I kept praying to God to peacefully take him.

Then one day as I lay on my bed in deep sadness, noticing for a moment, against my feelings, the sunlit sparkles in the frost on the window, a vision came to me of snipping flower heads (those ones that are close to death and need to be snipped to allow a healthier growth of the garden). It felt as though God was telling me that my help was needed to keep the garden of life tended.

Another dream with this theme came to me on two more occasions in a night of deep sleep, where I found myself in an old woman’s garden that was full of beautiful flowers just coming up in the spring. The dream seemed to emphasize a passing of winter, death, into an even more abundant garden of life in the future that would require my tending, as I had inherited the garden.

I still didn’t get the message and continued to pray to God to take Charlie. I felt that if I had to do it, it would be horrible. I couldn’t bear to take his life. I then had a dream that I was looking for my crystals. (I have always loved rocks and so explored this idea of a hidden magic in them. My own experience found that they were good for contemplating and focusing your thoughts to come only one at a time, a form of meditation.) In the dream I found my crystal and put it in my pocket. Next I was climbing a winding path up a mountain. (Really just a small hill, but in the flat prairies of Manitoba, I began in my childhood to call anything that was raised more than thirty good steps higher than ground level, a mountain.) When I reached the top, there stood before me a large twelve foot clear crystal. Beside it was a checker game with two seats and in one was seated my “best friend”
It was her turn to make a move, but she didn’t want to. I sat down to look at the playing pieces. I could see a clear line-up where I could jump over my best friend’s man and take him. She insisted she didn’t want to move and so I said, “I guess I will have to make the move then. I jumped the piece and took the man off the board. Just then the large crystal cracked and the tip fell off and broke into three pieces… one pink piece, one blue piece, and one white piece, all of baby pastel colors that are found in my favourite winter sky. I picked up one of the pieces and took a bite. It was sweet.
Now you may have intuitively figured out what this dream means, but for those of you who can make no sense of it, I will try and elucidate my understanding for you. I will begin with my “Best Friend”. The dream wasn’t of her in particular, but one should rather think of the saying, “A dog is a man’s best friend.” Climbing up the mountain represented the journey I had to make with Charlie and it would be an upward climb, not easy. In this game of life (represented by checkers in the dream), Charlie did not want to make the move. (I have been told that dogs will often go off by themselves and disappear when they know they are close to death.) So, I had to make the move. I made the jump and took Charlie’s life. I didn’t hesitate when it was apparent that this was what was required. Upon doing it, the crystal broke. Now crystals have also been said to be a carrier of truth. Though I thought if I took Charlie’s life, it would be a bitter experience, the dream showed me that when I bit into the truth, it would actually be sweet. (Keep this in mind as this story progresses.)

The next part of the equation was how I was going to present the facts and the situation to my children and try to ease the thought of the death of Charlie to them. Another dream came to me in the night. I was in an older house that was ours though it looked completely different than the one we are now in. A party was happening. I was around fifty years old, instead of my actual age of 39 at that time. My daughter was taller than me and around 17 years old instead of 8. She was sad. I took her hands and said, “I know what to do when you are sad.” I then pulled her into a polka dance for a moment.

Next I was outside standing above the dormer window of our house with my husband. We were looking up at the stars and talking when I said, “I wonder what it would be like to go up to the stars.” I then swished both of my arms up into the air to fly and much to my delight and surprise found myself whizzing through the heavens to the stars. It was a glorious feeling—but then I sensed that it wasn’t time for me yet, that I would have to go back. A bit reluctantly I went back. When I woke up, I realized that this would be the perfect vision to give my children for Charlie’s passing, that he would be going up to the stars, perhaps even to the dog star, Sirius.

Now that I had the mental framework for dealing with his passing, I needed the physical vehicle as Charlie was getting sick more often than he was well. It was now late fall and it took me a month of contemplation and tearful telephone calls to Centennial Animal Hospital to find out all the options. (I am very grateful for the patience and kindness the employees at this hospital extended to me.) Because of Charlie’s loathing for doctors and hospitals, I thought to have someone come and administer the shot that would end his pain in our home. But when the time was apparent, my eldest daughter was home sick and I knew she couldn’t bear to witness this. An alternative had to be found.Charlie had gotten terribly sick and made a mess of himself, so I had to give him a bath. Once the bath was completed he seemed much better, but I knew this was very temporary and the time had come. My other two children were now home from school and so I explained to them what I had to do and gave them time to say goodbye to Charlie. I was glad that at least he was well enough at the moment to receive pats from them and show his appreciation. I made him a special supper and again, it was good to see he was able to eat it.

Now came the moment I dreaded. I called the veterinary hospital I had been in contact with, but it was closed. I then tried another one that would be closest. The doctor there told me that normally he would be closing, but he would stay open as long as it took for me to be ready. I was grateful that I was given time right to the last minute to be with Charlie.



I phoned my best friend who was the one who brought this little abandoned pup to me in the beginning of his life, knowing then I was the one to care for him. We arranged for a short visit so she and her two dogs (his friends) could say goodbye. Before leaving for her place, something made me go into the bathroom of my home and pull my daughter’s 101 Dalamations bath towel off the rack before leaving. I thought to myself that it was a strange thing to do and even put it back once, but then reached for it again and brought it along.

Charlie was well enough while we visited, but when it was time to go, he was visibly tired. In fact by the time we reached the hospital, he was too weak to walk out on his own. I had to carry him. Now I understood why I had brought the towel. The one thing that absolutely terrified Charlie was being placed on the steel table used for examinations. The towel would serve to cushion this experience.

A strange thing happened as I placed him and the towel on the table. He was heavy in my arms and so this was difficult to do resulting in me fumbling a bit and a small corner of the table remained uncovered by the towel. Onto this bare corner some of Charlie’s saliva streamed out and formed the shape of a question mark. Because I am a visual artist, even in my grief I noticed this and was so astonished that I called my friend over to witness it. Our eyes met in bewildered amazement. I then placed my attention back with Charlie. It was one of the saddest experiences of my life. He was the first one whom I loved in which I had to face his passing. Even so I wouldn’t change that for the world. I had to be with him right to the end. He was instrumental in bringing me out of a previous deep depression in my life because of his joy in simple things like a walk in nature. This helped me to reconnect also with those same things that I enjoyed. He was a companion and good friend for twelve years.

I have to say that the Veterinary Doctor, was very patient. I now like to call him Mr. Nice, because of his generosity (a simple change in one letter of his name). He gave me as much time as I needed. I felt Charlie’s spirit going as it left his body. I cried and spoke to him as he left. I could feel when he was gone.

The first thing I saw when I lifted my eyes away from Charlie was a poster on the wall showing the back of a cat and dog sitting side by side looking into what appeared as bright sunshine in my memory.

I felt it was a quite appropriate first image to raise my eyes to upon leaving Charlie behind.

The other thing that seemed rather serendipitous was the next thing I consciously saw when I came out of the room was a fish called a Siamese fighting fish. Why serendipitous? Because when my daughter asked if we could get a cat for a pet in the future, the only thing I could promise was a fish. This fish was a combination of both a cat (in the name) and a fish.

When I held Charlie in my arms again, this time in a ceramic container with the ashes of his remains, a funny thought occurred to me. Charlie had returned to me the same weight as when I first held him as a pup. The circle was complete.

I often go for walks when I am upset and so upon reaching home, a walk would inevitably follow. I remember thinking while walking Charlie the previous week prior to his death that this moment would be terribly bitter for me, especially if I saw the footprints of our walks imprinted in the snow that had fallen during the week. But what truly happened was that while I was gone a light dusting of snow had completely covered the road in sparkles.

It was as if the stars of heaven had come down to earth,
and my Charlie had gone up to the heavens.

His actual passing wasn’t as bitter as I had thought it would be. With this final dusting of snow like icing on the cake of life, it was sweet. Now whenever I go for a walk and the heavens have touched the earth this way, I can’t help but think of Charlie, but gratefully without the pain, just the sweet memories. The same happens when I see star shapes dazzling in the sparkling of frost on our bedroom window.

Speaking of snow… every Spring when the snow begins to melt and get sticky, because of my children I have gotten into the habit of making a snow sculpture. When my eldest was about four, we made a five-foot Easter Bunny complete with a basket of eggs, and we painted them too.

When we moved to the country, we repeated this theme, but this time we filled the whole yard with huge colored eggs. Another year a snow dragon was created that practically went the whole length of the yard. (Funny thing tho'... every time I got a little cheeky in my head with this accomplishment, I was humbled with the head falling off. It took a couple of tries to get them both right : )

In the year of Charlie’s death, I didn’t really feel up to creating something, but then I had a talk with myself and said it would be a good idea. However not being in the mood for displaying, I went into the back yard.

In memorandum of Charlie, I had previously intended to make a sculpture of him out of clay. Because this project did not transpire, I thought I would now make one out of snow. But where to begin was the question. I decided to just dive right in by making a large pile of snow, slightly larger than Charlie. Then I closed my eyes and pretended that I was petting and patting him like I did when he was alive. I opened my eyes periodically to see how I was progressing and to refine what I saw. As I came to the back end, I wasn’t sure how to proceed, but I kept going, again, most of the time with my eyes shut.

When I opened them, I realized that the underbelly and hind end of Charlie seemed to be forming itself. Tears came to my eyes as I realized that the position it was taking was one that Charlie only used in the last year of his life as he was too fat and lazy to keep his hind end up. It rather slipped out from under him in a sideways kind of manner. More emotion and tears came to me as it dawned on me that perhaps Charlie’s Spirit was with me on this March day of my Birthday.

I painted this sculpture which really served to bring it to life. So much so, that sometimes I was momentarily startled when I took out the compost pail and saw the sculpture. At other times I was comforted when I looked out my bedroom window and caught a glimpse of the pup I thought I would never see out through this window again.

If you haven’t gathered already, I had a difficult time letting go of Charlie. As part of the therapy I used to help move my feelings, I would make up little rhymes about him as I jogged at night. I was inspired by my mother-in-law who started the particular rhythm of the poems and the first two lines I incorporated, as she originally created a little song about her own poodle pup. Her tradition was carried on to my own pup. The poems all contained true stories about him.

I had a dog and his name was Charlie,
He liked to savour his ice-cream,
He’d lick it ever oh so slowly,
As if he was in a waking dream.

I had a dog and his name was Charlie,
He had the most expressive eyes,
You could tell what he was feeling,
There was no veil of disguise.

I had a dog and his name was Charlie,
His smile never failed to make me grin,
He’d tilt his head over to one side,
And his cheek puffed out as his lip tucked in.


I had a dog and his name was Charlie,
He had the softest ever fur,
I liked to lay my face within it,
It gave me such warm comfort.

I had a dog and his name was Charlie,
He was one incredible pup,
He could tell what I was thinking,
Especially, if it was a walk.

I had a dog and his name was Charlie
He could be a comical boy
Like when he would bulldoze his nose
Through the freshly fallen snow.

I had a dog and his name was Charlie
I remember how he made me laugh
When he would bound up just like a deer
Then be lost in the long summer grass.

I had a dog and his name was Charlie
He had a real rhythmic trot
I’d love to watch his tail go to an' fro
Whenever we went for a walk.

I had a dog and his name was Charlie
He was the brightest you ever did see
He would go and guard my child
With a command of Watch Baby.

I had a dog and his name was Charlie,
He always gave me his very best,
And though it got tough in the very end
To be in his company, I was blessed.

I had a dog and his name was Charlie,
We were the very best of friends,
It is true that I did love him,
Right until the very end.

----------------------------------------

And then there was Max...

Tribute to Max [accompanying words to video slideshow]

We may have taken the dog out of the wild
but in Max's case, I don't think all of the wild was taken out of him.

The first day we met Max, it was 40 degrees below zero
with a wind chill that made it feel 50 degrees below.

He amazed us with his determination.

Often it was stiff going with carefully sought out baby steps in the morning.

With the warmth of Spring, Max's wariness
toward me and my camera
loosened along with his step.

His stance went from hesitant stiff old steps
to those of a pup ready to play.
In fact he became down-right frisky!

Max began to join us on our walks.
Max loved long walks.
Especially if he had company.

But you would often see him on his own.
That is, until he spotted you.
Then he'd be trotting toward you with a grin on his face.

As he warmed to our company, his unique character began to emerge.
He was far more adventuresome than Cookie,
oft times disappearing from sight.

Spring... was... wonderful!

You know... there are people... who say... dogs are expressionless...
and have no feelings.
I don't believe... that this... is true.

I think they have plenty
of expression and certainly
lots of feeling. One only
has to look at them
to see that this is true.

We learned how Max may have supplemented his diet.
He was especially keen by the water's edge.
He checked thoroughly with a subtle sense of excitement.

I wondered what it was...
he was looking for.

Cookie mirrored his behaviour.
Cookie didn't want to miss whatever it was Max was looking for.

He's locked onto his quarry... You're mine now.
I know I saw it here. Where'd he go?
Ah, it must have gone down this hole.

Oh well, he may not have caught the mouse this time,
but he did catch something else.

Greetings between Cookie and Max
could be hesitant.

This was not because of Max.

It was Cookie who put the pressure on.
She was insecure and jealous
of the attention I gave to Max.

Max and Cookie often vied who would be leader...
Max usually won and Cookie became his shadow.
Sometimes though, being a leader
can be tough going!

I'll let you lead this time.

He made himself at home
wherever he went.

Yet he didn’t want to be coddled.
He enjoyed being independent.

I remember when Max brought a friend to visit.
What a surprise it was to find his frosty furry face
filling our back entranceway
as I opened the door to let my own dog out..

Max’s coat was wonderfully thick about his neck
With warm, rich, golden shades of color.
He really was a handsome fellow.

You may ask… where did Max come from?
Who did he belong to?
When I first saw him… I asked the same questions.
I was told… … not to worry.
That Max… was a town dog.
He was taken care of…
by everyone in town.

Sometimes I wondered… if this was true.

He could prove to be very hungry.
Yet also eat very little.

The truth is… Max did have an owner.
I saw Max look for him.
He often came to pick up Max,
who never got used to moving
out of town.

Many strategies were tried
by one and all
with numerous rides
to bring Max home to his new home.
But it proved to be as some would say…
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

Max would make the five or so mild trek…
back… into… town.
I was told it was the company and attention…
… of the town’s folk that he enjoyed.

For many years this went on.
Almost daily you could see him
trotting down the road.

But sometimes you wouldn’t see him
for a very long time.
And usually it was near the end of winter.

He was not a young dog… and so I feared… the worst.

Then I would learn that he had gone home for awhile.
Sure enough, I’d see him another day
trotting toward us with a smile on his face.

But you never knew for sure
…if… or… …when you would see him again.

I didn’t think he’d make it
through the first winter that I met him.
I thought that he’s be gone
before Spring.

So it was a joyful occasion
whenever I saw him again.
It was for this reason
that when I did see him
I made sure
that I would take
lots and lots and lots
of pictures.

I believe his highly spirited nature…
served… to keep… him going.

It could easily be said…
That Max found a place
in my heart.
And I am sure
that he found a place
into the hearts of many.

I think Max served as the town mascot.

Have you every thought…
of how… dog,
spelt backwards…Is…
you figure it out.)

I am certain of one thing
In my own life, Dogs
have been the greatest of teachers.

From Max, I learned many things

Tho’ your body may be getting on
You can be Young at Heart.
Never lose your sense of adventure.
Get plenty of exercise.
Don’t forget to play.
Companionship can be good.

Even when you are hungry…
eat frugally.
Show no aggression.

Max demonstrated how to never give up.
To take pleasure in simple things.
No matter how achy his bones became…
Max marched on.

Max is gone now.
I miss the boy.
Seeing him… come Spring…
walking down the road…
His deep-voiced bark…
His accompanying us on our walks.
His enthusiasm.
His inquisitiveness.
His playfulness.
His joy of Spring!
His wiggle’n roll warm-ups.
Seeing how he survived.

I’m sure that at times, Cookie misses Max, too…
As she often welcomed him by her side.

One thing is certain…
This town is not the same…
without Max wandering about.

But wait!

Someone new has come to town…
With golden-colored fur…
and showing rather…
an independent character.

When I asked…
Who does he belong to?...
I was told…
Not to worry…

That he is a town cat.

Hmmm…