Charlie

This is my pal Charlie. He's an Australian Shepherd. I've always been a Doberman guy, but Shay raised Aussies in high school, so when I came across the craigslist ad for this guy, I should've known better than to show it to her. Of course we had to have him. He was Shay's Christmas present last year, and he stayed with her while she was going to school. She moved to a different house around Christmas of last year, a place where dogs really weren't welcome. Charlie came home to live with me. Now, I don't know what you folks know about Aussies, but they are very loyal. They respond to one master and pretty much stick by their side at all times. Charles and I became great friends, which resulted in the purchase of another pup for Shay. That's a story for another time (if it was up to Shay we'd have a billion dogs).

Charlie is pretty much the bomb. We've had some rough patches - he got ran over and had to have hip surgery and had some nasty road rash on his... male dog parts. He had surgery about four months ago and is doing quite well. He jumped into the bed of my pickup unassisted last week for the first time since he got ran over. He loves to ride in the pickup. He barks for at least 5 miles every time I let him ride in the bed. I play ball with him. I feed him. I love him.

So, why, Charlie? Why must you run away at every opportunity? He must've crashed through a 40 acre patch of cockleburrs yesterday. They're all over the poor guy. I had to cut a large portion of his hair off, and this after his hair was finally growing back from the surgery. Male dogs like to get out and explore. I get it. That's a dude thing. Gotta get out there and look for a woman. I just wish he would tell me first. It's almost as if he doesn't care what I think or how I feel. Plus, he had the nerve to drag his little sister (they are actually from the same parents) Hannah along! Thank goodness the neighbor found them and brought them home. Sometimes I think he does it to piss me off, like the time I came home and found my lawn mower seat ripped to pieces. I was pretty mad at him, but I couldn't bring myself to discipline him, not when he looked at me with his yellowish-brownish eyes and attempted to nuzzle as close to me as possible. He didn't mean it. He was chasing a bird and got lost. He'll know better next time.

God help me when I have children.