CHARLIE

And so I return from my year-long hiatus. I almost forgot I had a blog! No, scratch that lie— I fully remembered. I remembered approximately once a week when I would contemplate writing something, come up with a great idea, develop it partially, and then abandon the idea altogether. The fierce battle with perfection continues but this time I will overcome it. This time I will write with all my heart and post with reckless abandon because I am learning that there is no greater threat to creativity than this fear and obsession with flawlessness. And I refuse to be defeated any longer.

To be honest, life has been a rollercoaster lately (as always, no?). I constantly switch off between loving everything and feeling rather “blah.” One day I’m excited about planning classes, feeling confident with my Spanish, adoring teaching, and appreciating this amazing opportunity to live in Spain. The next day, I’m content just to get by on the bare minimum. I’m dreading classes because I lack enthusiasm and I’m living in constant anticipation of the mythical “tomorrow” that never comes. 

To put this into perspective for you, let’s just say I was on the gloomy side of that equation when I got the news that has changed everything. Among all my regular ups and downs, a bit over a week ago I was skyping with my mom and my dog when I noticed that Charlie was moving a lot slower than usual. He’s an old guy so it’s not that surprising, but his lack of a smile or any sign of excitement at hearing my voice was. “Hey! What’s up with Limpy McGee?” I jokingly inquired. Not that “Limpy” is a common nickname for my friend, but he was limping and in my family we just call it like it is— the more insulting, the better. My mom played right along.

“Well, Limpy McGee hasn’t been doing so well,” she explained with a strained smile. She continued to tell me that his legs seemed to be bothering him and that she planned to take him to the vet to get it checked out the next day. And that was it. The exchange was short, almost inconsequential, and not at all the focus of the conversation. But something in the way that she was guarding it told me otherwise. I still can’t pinpoint why, but in that moment I could sense the concern in her tone and the urgency behind her limited response.

It reminded me of being in Costa Rica when I found out my grandpa was in the hospital. At that point, my parents weren’t extremely concerned—a trip to the hospital was in no way routine, but it also wasn’t grounds to expect the worst and start considering coming back. But, for some reason, I knew as soon as it happened that it was a serious situation. For some reason, I could sense the gravity. And it was same with Charlie Brown.

I don’t usually follow up on events the very next day after a skype session, but that Monday I did. I checked in on my Limpy McGee and, again, my mom’s terse replies seemed to confirm the answer my intuition was giving me. I could tell it was coming and I was starting to prepare myself for the upcoming days, weeks, and months of knowing things were getting worse and eventually having to say goodbye to my best friend. What I could never be prepared for, however, is that the very next day heaven would have a new angel.

The sweetest, sincerest, most loved angel of all. Heaven has been blessed in this acquisition, but it hurts so much because those of us here have forgotten how to function without him. Charlie is our everything—our baby, our nurse, our protector, best friend, child, brother, true love. 

Years ago, I was lucky enough to be born into a family that was already complete with a dog and having Jake by my side as a child meant so much. He was a wonderful guardian who shaped my values and helped me to grow into the person I am today. Losing him was the first major loss I experienced and it hurt incredibly. Still, I know he continued to be with us because later that year he sent us Charlie Brown and our lives haven’t been the same since.

The difference that makes this loss feel even more difficult is that Charlie has seen my family through so much more. Personally, life before twelve was infinitely less complicated than life after twelve. Charlie has been at my side through all of my big moments and major decisions. Charlie has talked me through it all. We have travelled together. We have gone on adventures together. We have cried together when situations felt insufferable. And we have then jumped into the car to go eat ice cream by ourselves when it was clear that there was no other answer.

Charlie taught me how to live for myself and how to live for something much greater, all at the same time. He taught me how to appreciate life through the bumps and bruises and how to experience beauty in the everyday. I truly believe that dogs are God’s greatest gift to us. They live so simply in the fact that they are not distracted by jealousy, greed, vanity, or distrust. They love wholly and unconditionally. And because of this “simplicity” they can recognize and react to the most complex of human emotions in the most needed ways.

It’s no surprise to me that petting a dog is a scientifically proven way to calm down and relieve stress. I’ve experienced it so many times, it is all I long for in moments of distress, and it hurts my heart that he’s no longer here to be that for me. At the same time, I know that his love lives on. I see it every day in the random dogs on the street who seem to stop and smile at me in particular. I see it in the kind way my roommate’s dog checks on me throughout the day and nuzzles into me when he can feel the emotions swelling in my throat and the moisture making its way to my eyes. 

I was blessed not only with the thirteen years I got to spend with Charlie but also with the lifetime of understanding, comfort, and confidence I’ll now have because of him. And for that I am forever grateful. I love you, goodest good boy. May you run wild and swim free.