Charlie Photo credit: Howie Lisnoff
Charlie
Charlie was our dog for over 16 years. He was a great little Yorkie weighing about 9.5 pounds. Charlie, as we learned when we took him for his first vet appointment after we bought him in upstate New York, came from a puppy mill, something we were shocked to learn. The vet knew this from the papers that came along with Charlie. Charlie was born in Pennsylvania, a state the vet told us is known for puppy mills. I do not know if the latter is true.
I didn’t like the seller, but I overlooked that issue. The seller offered a lecture on how to buy low and sell high, a program that he had implemented as a visitor at a local high school. I needed to have been suspicious at that point of our interactions.
Charlie was a beautiful little guy, but he had several issues. He barked like a maniac when anyone came to our door, and he especially didn’t like men. When I’d play with him he often bared his teeth, which was a clue that something was going on. I suspect he wasn’t treated well at the place he came from, but we already owned him so that was the end of that issue.
We took him to a dog trainer and she wasn’t particularly helpful or knowledgeable about Charlie. She said he was a “dangerous dog.” That was about as far from the truth as I am from the end of the universe. He was high strung, but his early life had to be taken into consideration.
Charlie developed some recurring health problems connected to his digestion and we tried all sorts of changes to his diet and ongoing veterinary care. Veterinarians are expensive and Charlie’s care was very expensive. He was also sensitive to vaccinations and that was another issue in his care. From an entirely layman’s perspective, the shot to protect him from the virus arising through contact with other dogs in a kennel was a bust and made him really sick.
A typical Yorkie lives about 12+ years and Charlie lived to over 16 at his death in January. He never showed any signs of pain, but fell into a sharp physical decline about 6 months before his death. I do not know what I would have done if he had been in pain. He continued eating, which he really loved to do, until just two days before he died.
The last vet to treat Charlie was difficult to deal with. That vet got really nasty with me when I asked about the cost of one visit about a year earlier. She said I was impugning the reputation of the veterinary clinic by asking what the cost of that day’s treatment would be. I could examine the cost of veterinary care in general in this writing, however, it seems as if pet owners are forever paying for the cost of a veterinary education. At least with a physician, there’s sometimes health insurance. I never considered insurance for Charlie because I was suspicious of the brochures I saw over the years at veterinary clinics. These insurers can’t be in it for the love of animals.
Charlie’s death was traumatic after the long decline of his health. I needed help dealing with the complications of his declining health and my wife stepped in. I know a little about grief because I completed a major project about grief in a graduate school program in counseling. But knowing and experiencing/feeling and dealing are entirely different issues. Charlie could not control issues that had been a given in the years leading up to his precipitous decline. But, as I mentioned, he still ate like a proverbial horse and was never unloving in spite of his early experiences. We had Charlie cremated, as that was about our only alternative in winter. I hesitate to bury his ashes that are contained in a very beautiful wooden box, but I think that his burial is what’s necessary. I‘m left with how people experience grief that is not a linear or discreet experience as much of the early writing on the subject would have it. We form strong bonds to other living beings as humans and between and among other species and loss creates a whole host of reactions, some angry and some perceptive. Relating makes us human and opens us up to the pain that loss brings. I miss my guy Charlie a lot!
Charlie