01/21/2025
Join us in remembering a cherished life. Today, we honor Charlie, a beloved companion and treasured friend. Here is his story, as lovingly told by his family:
Charlie came to me as a terrified foster from a background of abuse and neglect. On that first day, I picked him up from transport, and when we reached my home, he was too scared to get out of the car. I left the back open and sat on the garage floor, speaking to him softly, letting him know he was safe and that I would wait as long as he needed. Two hours later, he emerged from the car—tentative, unsure, but willing to take the next steps. I gave him the toys I had purchased for him, but he seemed unsure what to do with them. He cowered at any attempt to touch him. So, over the next few days, with the help of my dog Nika, we showed him how to play with his toys, taught him to trust touch, and showed him love. Slowly, he set the pace, and when he was ready for touch, he laid his head in my lap and looked into my eyes. That began my journey as a Foster Failure. 🌈IN MEMORIAM🌈
Charlie was my boy, my heart. Although Charlie was a big part of my pet food pantry, No Bowl Empty 2 Pet Food Pantry, he preferred to stay in the background—rarely seen but always heard. Charlie was my early warning system when people arrived at the pantry and considered himself a land baron, as he was certain he owned all the land he could see, and he watched over it very carefully. Charlie had his own way; he was not a fan of crowds, not particularly fond of children, and hated car rides—but he would happily go if it involved a pup cup. Charlie was certain the vet's office was the scariest place on earth, so vet visits were done under heavy medication. He would bark like an attack dog when people came to the door, but once granted access to the house, he would grab a ball to show his visitors—just look, no touching. True to his Border Collie blood, Charlie was obsessed with balls and would play fetch from sunrise to almost the next sunrise.
With his family, Charlie was sweet, affectionate, and protective. His excitement when I came home was almost uncontrollable. He helped heal my heart when my Aunt Charlotte passed. He helped heal my heart when Nika passed. He was laying with my mom, his snout in her hand, when she passed, and he watched carefully as her body was taken away. Charlie and Raine were best friends, inseparable—where one was, so was the other. Our daily trail walks were a sniff adventure that he loved—rain, snow, mud, wind, heat—Charlie was always ready for a trail walk. Our trail walks will never be the same.
My life is better for having had Charlie in it, and my heart will never forget him. Charlie left a hole in my heart big enough to drive a truck through, and I will forever be thankful that he was my best buddy. Charlie set off on his final trail walk, solo, as he crossed the Rainbow Bridge on December 10th. His loss still brings me to tears and knocks the breath from my lungs. Charlie will live forever in my heart. Rest easy, Charlie. I will see you over the Rainbow Bridge. I love you, big boy.
