Charlie is our foster dog, who might soon become the fourth dog. (We lost our cat this summer. Keeping Charlie maintains "paw equilibrium" of the house.) I am thankful for him and the life and spirit he adds to our home.
I know less of Charlie's back story than I do our other guys. He ended up with Small Paws Rescue somehow, which means that he was in a bad situation. He wasn't as sacred as Fred was at first, but he had his quirks (some of which he retains today). We couldn't pick him up, he would yelp if you came up behind him, and wasn't leash trained. Well he quickly learned the leash thing, because we love our little Ws in this house. We try to go for a walk at least once a day, usually twice. Charlie now loves walks, and let me tell you, this dogs re-pees on everything the other dogs have peed on first. Sometimes he has to double back to catch something the dawdler Fred hits.
Charlie looks like he is always smiling. He has over-processed ears that look fuzzy and funny and cute. He is an instigator and tries to chew on Frosty a lot. Poor Frosty. Our little old man isn't used to the sprightliness of young pups anymore. But Charlie has helped to keep F-er active. Charlie has no understanding of personal space. He will jump up on the couch and stick his snout into whatever you are doing--paws on the computer, snout in a book, whatever is in your hand.
We call Charlie "Brett's Minion" because, let's face it, haven't we all wanted a minion to do our bidding every now and then. That started when Simon was still around, and Brett taught Charlie to bark and bark and bark at Simon. Charlie also goes by Pork Chop, Lunch Box, and Chuck Wagon. He was a bit of an eater when we first got him, which makes us think that he probably was in a situation where he didn't get enough to eat at some point.
He's been with us about six months now, and we have been seriously thinking about keeping him. He's become part of our pack now. He loves us. And we love him.