Charlie: an Appreciation

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My dog Charlie died just before Christmas last year. He was about 15. He’d come down with what we treated as pneumonia, but knew might be congestive heart failure. He was coughing a lot and for a dog that age, it can be one or the other, or both. He had been doing fine, and before he got sick I thought, maybe he’ll make it to 17 or something extraordinary. He didn’t look so old. He didn’t like long walks much anymore, but he’d still have his run-arounds in the yard. That was always his greatest joy, and mine to watch and encourage. I’d half chase him around or just lunge, and he’d take off. Around and around the yard, park, or beach he’d go. We called him Wind Dog, both because he ran like the wind, and ran most when it was windy. He loved wind.

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