Char Char

Charlie is resting. He always loved to be lazy. We, too, chased a few birds but gave it up quickly. He was always too smart to waste his energy.

I stood on rocks where waves crashed, it didn’t feel right. So I found a quiet tidal pool and let him go. It was like he curled up and rested, happy to be right there for a bit. I was happy to sit with him for a very long while as I started to write this.

Reading about wolf 8 in Yellowstone right now is making me think of parallels with Charlie. Like 8 he was the smallest, the last to be adopted. When he met his big, strange new siblings he cowered. But he quickly grew strong and confident. He overcame more than most dogs should ever know. I kept thinking of the picture below as I walked along the beach. Poor picture quality, It was taken after coming home one day and finding him up on the couch. He was recovering from trauma and we didn’t know if he would even be able to fully walk again. Somehow he got himself up.

He was so strong. He was a good dog. Goodbye Charlie, you can sleep now.