And then there was Charlie...

I think that over the years I have come to terms with my love for the name Charlie. I have had the love of the name for many years and although I cannot really explain why I love the name, it is just one of those quirks we all have. I guess it is no worse than having a favorite color or flower and having those things around you all the time.

I didn't have a special friend or family member I loved with the name, it seems to have evolved for me and it is funny that over the years, people and pets have been graced with the name (especially pets).

Charlie is a good name in that it can be either Charlie, which is a fun loving, friendly kind of a name, to Chuck which is a bit more "butch" or masculine, even simple and a bit "redneck". It can also be Charles which is a bit more formal, regal and a bit more feminine (after all, Prince Charles is no he-man). Then there's Chip... hmmm, Chippy, chipper, chocolate chip, the Chipster, what a silly nick name. Charlie for a boy, can be Charley for a girl and regardless it is a name that is easy to remember and lasting and most people have little trouble spelling it, unlike Geoffrey.

My first encounter was a friend in middle school named Chuck. We were friends for a while, but the name didn't affect me then. Chuck grew up and became a friend to my younger brother and we didn't stay in contact after middle school. I know he remains in the same area we grew up in outside of Chicago and that he has a family and is bald and I hear pretty much the same old Chuck according to my brother.

Buddy's given name was Herman Charles and I tried to get him to let me call him Charlie. He didn't mind, but he had been Buddy since he was a kid and that was the name that stuck. Most people didn't even know his real name let alone his middle name. Needless to say I finally gave up and called him Booboo. He was more of a Charles than a Charlie anyway and actually I have the fondness for Charlie and not the other so called names that are supposed to be the same and yet not nearly the same. It is like calling someone named John, Jack... makes no sense to me at all. Timmy made better sense when he would say, "I'm Timmy, but you can call me Mary. In fact all my friends are named Mary."

The first Dog that Buddy and I got was Jett. Buddy named her and she quickly became his pup. We decided we wanted a playmate for Jett and so I shopped for a full-blooded Golden Retriever. It was a dog I had always wanted and that meant that it was I dog I would get if Buddy had anything to say about it. We found two puppies left in a litter for sale and I fell for a chubby little boy pup who was a bit clumsy and very sweet. We took him home and I had thought I would call him Charlie, however it didn't quite fit and so he was named and registered as Chauncey Charlie. He was a funny kid from the start. I used to put him in a wading pool in the summer to cool off and Jett usually joined us and stood in the center of the pool. Both kids loved water and loved to swim, however Chauncey Charlie liked to have me throw a rock into the water and then retrieve it. It was amazing to see him dive bomb the water surface and swim under water and nose around until satisfied he had the right rock, pick it up and return to shore. The other favorite playtime for him was to have a soda can filled with rocks and taped shut. He would take the can to the top of a hill and roll it down and wait till it got about halfway down t, then run after it and catch it and return to the top of the hill. He would play this way for hours. He was one of those dogs that did well without a leash and stayed close to his people. Both dogs did and were more concerned with what their people were doing. We took them camping and skiing and they loved being outdoors with us. Chauncey Charlie also loved his tennis balls, seemed he was born with one in his mouth. He played catch and would go to the center on the yard and wait till you threw it at him. I could throw the ball directly at him and he would catch it squarely better than any baseball player. He was also quite a lover too; he loved to curl up with me and would put his head on my shoulder and press down as if giving me a hug. He lived to be 10 years old until issues with over breeding of the Golden Retriever caused many health issues, including cancer.

The next Charlie was a stray cat that was found by a worker friend and brought to the office. I took Charlie home the same day and was very taken with him. He was black and white and grew to 18 pounds of playful kitty. He fit the name exactly, he was the kind of friend who would wake me up every morning by sitting on my back and meowing while I was trying to catch that last 40 winks. He was insistent, and so when Charlie decided I was to get up, I got up. The other thing he loved to do was to ride on my feet. He would literally sit on the top of a foot and wrap his paws around my calf and "ride" from the bedroom upstairs to the kitchen below. He then could get off and rub against me and talk constantly until I picked him up. Charlie was black and white and longhaired and he was also an entertainer. He would set up his toys in front of the television and begin to play and he especially liked to toss a balled up piece of foil and catch it in mid air. I had been told he was more entertaining than the TV. Charlie only lived a short time, he was with us almost 2 years and he died of feline AIDS.

Charlie B was our next named so; he was a longhaired Scottish Fold, or Highland Fold. He was classic tabby and had the folded ears and a plume of a tail. He was skittish initially as the breeder kept him with 50 other cats of varied ages in a 10-foot by 10-foot cage. We had to make several visits before she agreed to let us buy him. Buddy wanted to give him to me as a gift as he knew I loved the Scottish Fold breed. Similar to my love of Golden Retrievers, when I liked something Buddy bought it. Charlie B became quite a lover though he took a long time to allow himself to love his people. He never allowed anyone except me to pick him up and carry him, however he was a lap cat who once settled in a lap, refused to get out again.

For a little over 3 years I lived on the Oregon coast in a very small town and allowed the cats to go outside. Charlie loved the front yard and found an indention in the yard where he could lay and sleep. He unfortunately refused to leave the spot even in the rain and I would have go out to his spot and lift him out of a puddle of water in the rain and bring him inside. If the front door was opened for more than 2 seconds, he would run back out and go right back to his spot, rain or shine. Charlie traveled with me from Oregon to California and a short stay there where he hid and was not seen until we left. We traveled to Arizona to Prescott first and then Phoenix. Charlie had company then as my other pal cat Chester was alive then. Chester died of cancer before we left Arizona and Charlie came with us to Savannah Georgia. Charlie was with us here for a year and at the ripe old age on 15 1/2 died in my arms of old age. He was a sweet friend until the end.

This didn't end my need for a new Charlie. We had adopted a dog named Ginger and decided in 2005 that since we bought a new house, with a nice fenced backyard, Ginger needed a friend. We had been discussing what kind of a friend to get on Ginger's behalf when we saw an ad for a great Dane in the paper housed at the humane society. We went there and found out he was in another shelter, but we happened on a silly fellow named "Six". He was named that because he appeared to have six toes on his left back foot. He was part boxer and part hound, brindle with a white chest and very sweet and happy. We decided to introduce him to Ginger who was waiting in the truck and the two went crazy playing. Needless to say, "Six" came home with us that day. When I took him to the vet for shots and exam, she found that he didn't have six toes, he has an extra foot with three toes on it, very uncommon. The people who abandoned him were wrong; it should have been "Seven". His name was quickly changed to Charlie and it is appropriate for him, he is a silly guy. He gets me up in the morning when HE thinks it is time to eat; he puts his chin on the bed by my face and bounces it. If that doesn't work he hops up on the bed, flops next to me and rolls on his back, stretches both front legs up into my face and licks me. This usually gets me up, but on days it is too early, I make him wait. That usually means every 5-10 minutes. I go through the same routine until Charlie finally wins. He loves to watch out the bay window when we leave them in the house and have errands, he and Ginger own the love seat in the den and he loves to play tag in the house with Ginger and me. The house has a big circle through the living room, then the main hallway into the dining room and into the kitchen and back to the living room. We go back and forth, Ginger grabs my hands with her mouth when she catches me and Charlie barks, talks and sings the entire time. It is loads of fun, especially when I use a papertowel holder to make funny sounds.

He loves to cuddle and gets up in the easy chair with Ray, or lays across me on the loveseat. He also often sleeps with me, he likes to lay back to back and doesn't like it if I move. He snores and dreams, just like Ginger. They both pout when they don't get what they want and they are spoiled and very loved and loving. They keep me smiling and do so many silly things that keep me laughing.

What would life be without our special family friends? Animals are as human as we and yet so much more forgiving and infinitely more loving...