Charlie's Tale

Charlie (formerly Royce) came into our lives on a cold, snowy day in February 2006.

Initially, I received an email from Dr. Mae Sakharov asking if I could put a story on my newspaper's Web site about a hard-luck case that needed to find his forever home. It seems that Royce, a 7-year-old Shih Tzu, was wandering the streets of Philadelphia and got hit by a car.

A Good Samaritan spotted the incident, scooped him up and got him to a local animal hospital right away. I only wish I could locate that individual and thank him/her for their kindness which set into motion the events that brought Charlie to live with us.

As it turns out, Royce suffered no injuries from his chance encounter with that car but the veterinarian discovered that he had no sight in one eye and thought that he was partially blind in the other. For many dogs or cats that's two strikes against them ever being adopted. He was also a bit underweight having survived by his wits for several days on his own.

I clicked on the link to Royce's listing on Petfinder and my heart went out to him. Yes, I did put a link to his story on my newspaper's Web site but it didn't stay up there long.

Throughout the day, I kept going back to that Petfinder page and stared at his picture wishing we could adopt him. Logic made we wonder if it was a good idea since we already had two dogs. Eventually, I emailed my wife, Kathy, with his Petfinder link and the link to his picture on my newspaper's Web site.

I don't think that 90 seconds went by when my phone rang. Kathy was smitten by Royce.

"We can't let that poor little guy go homeless," she said. "How would you feel about living with three dogs? Do you think Sophie and Lilly (our other two rescue dogs) would accept him?"

Well, that was pretty direct, wasn't it? Here I thought I would have to sell her on this idea and she was trying to do the same to me.

As mentioned earlier, we have two rescue dogs at home, Sophie and Lilly, whom we sometimes refer to as "Lucy and Ethel."

We adopted Sophie (our version of Lucy), a Bichon Frise/Shih Tzu mix, from a friend who was moving and couldn't take her with him. She has such a pronounced underbite that I nicknamed her "Princess Jutting-Jaw." You could describe Sophie as the "angel with a crooked halo." She can get into anything and everything-and usually does.

Lilly (our version of Ethel), a Shih Tzu/Maltese mix, is definitely not the "brightest bulb in the chandelier." What she lacks in smarts she makes up in love. She will blindly follow her sister into any kind of trouble Sophie can dream up and wonder what all the fuss is about when they get caught.

We think Lilly is afraid we'll also abandon her (fat chance of that ever happening!) if she doesn't prove to us constantly that she loves us. She's forever kissing us-sometimes frantically. While never being abandoned and forced to live by her wits, she was returned to a shelter twice. Her first family couldn't afford to keep her and all of her littermates so they surrendered her to a shelter. She was adopted out to a family who thought she had epilepsy (she didn't) and back to the shelter she went the next day.

So this was the home that awaited Charlie.

The day we went to see him for the first time at the Belle Meade Animal Hospital we discovered that his eye became perforated the night before and the doctor performed emergency surgery to remove it. However, this doctor didn't find anything wrong with his other eye. What a blessing!

There he was, in his Elizabethan collar to keep him from scratching at his stitches, standing on wobbly legs looking up at us and wondering whom we were. Then he promptly fell on his rump because he was still recovering from the anesthesia. Judging by the expression on his face, I think he was embarrassed.

Sadly, we couldn't take him home until the doctor was certain he was stable. Nor could he meet his future sisters (they remained in our car) because that might be too stressful for him. It broke our hearts to leave him there over the weekend but right after work on Monday I went to pick him up.

"Come on, little guy. We're gonna' take you to your forever home," I remember telling him as I carried him to my car and gingerly placed him on the front passenger seat. Like all dogs do he thought it was his turn to drive. As I was about to get into the car I found him on the driver's seat and shooed him back to where he belonged.

"Not until you get your license and can reach the pedals," I told him. He gave me a when's-that-gonna-happen look. I decided not to pursue the matter any further.

During the ride home he lay curled on the front passenger seat. Occasionally, he'd raise his head and peer out of the window and then go back to sleep. What a great "car dog!"

Alas, sometimes things don't turn out they way we hope. The day I took him home was inauguration day for Governor Corzine. Charlie and I became unwilling participants in the inaugural celebration.

For security reasons the State Police closed off a huge chunk of Route 1 (at rush hour, of course) in the Princeton area for the governor's feté. This immediately clogged up all secondary roads. What would normally have been an hour's drive from the animal hospital turned into two. Thankfully, Charlie only gave me a few are-we-there-yet looks.

Eventually we pulled into the driveway of Charlie's new home. Now the big moment had finally arrived. Charlie was going to meet his new family. Would they accept him? Would he accept them?

As introductions go it wasn't that bad. Sophie and Lilly were real curious about the newcomer and slowly crept up behind him to sniff him-only to scatter to the four corners of the house when that Elizabethan collar came swinging towards them.

I have to give them credit, though. They persisted in their efforts and as the days wore on the distance between them and Charlie began to narrow. Still, they couldn't make that last "leap of faith" and meet him head-on while he wore that collar.

Eventually, the stitches healed, the collar came off and all three became acquainted.

Were there some problems in the beginning? Sure was. Lilly developed a case of food-aggression towards him and her sister of two years. No problem, though, that a puppy-proof gate between them and him at mealtimes couldn't solve. Other than that one incident, things went rather well.

Charlie is 180-degrees the opposite of his sisters. He's the ultimate couch potato. Sophie is anywhere and everywhere, exploring new forms of mischief to her hearts content with Lilly following blindly. Charlie plays more of a spectator's sport and watches them go on their merry way.

He does have a few quirks, though. Actually, who doesn't? He loves to cuddle which, in and of itself is kind of cute. However, if he can't find one of his humans to cuddle with, any shirt, sweater or apron of theirs will do. One night, while eating dinner, we happened to notice Kathy's apron begin to slide off the back of a kitchen chair only to disappear into his bed in the family room.

"I'll let him keep it. There's plenty more of those in the cabinet," she laughed. Actually, she thought it was kind of sweet. She didn't think it was so sweet when she discovered in his possession her 100% Irish-wool sweater her mother got for her when she visited the Emerald Isle. By the way, he still has that sweater to this day. He can definitely charm the ladies!

One evening Kathy took the recycling and garbage bins from their drawer in one of our kitchen cabinets to empty into a larger can in the garage. When she came back into the house Charlie was nowhere to be found. It wasn't until she heard a doggie sneeze from inside the kitchen cabinet that she discovered his whereabouts.

Since discovering this little hideaway Charlie has learned how to use his paw or snoot to swing the drawer open and we've had to repeatedly shoo him out of there. Eventually, we took a rubber band and hooked it onto the knob of the recycling drawer and the knob on the drawer above it. If he should manage to get the drawer open when we're not home the rubber band forces it to close slowly and gently. He's starting to get the idea that this little nook in "his" house is off-limits.

In the 11 months he's lived with us Charlie is finally beginning to answer to the name we gave him. Until now we think he's been wondering why nobody will call him by his "real" name. Oh, Charlie if only we knew your previous name we would!

He follows us everywhere-when he's not sleeping, that is.