One Year Later…

One year ago today we took a drive from Hartford, Tennessee to Knoxville. We left earlier in the day than we needed to, but we were a little excited. It had been a year since we had lost our beloved Bailey B. and we were ready for a new canine companion. It just so happened that Charlie B. was in the market for a new family.

Talk about being in the right place at the right time, this wild-haired, energetic tasmanian devil was just what our family needed. In a way it does not feel as though we have had him for a year already, but at the same time it feels as if we have had him forever. He is such a fun dog to have around, and I sure am glad he is a part of our family.

When we picked him up we were told that he was right at a year old, so we decided to make his adoption day his birthday. Soooo, Happy 2nd Birthday, Charbie! Here’s to many, many more…

 

Walking with Charbie

The great pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too.  ~Samuel Butler, Notebooks, 1912

Charbie absolutely loves the beach. He is such a happy boy out there running around in the sand, digging up shells and chasing waves. He especially loves “Shelly,” the large white clam shells. He runs from Shelly to Shelly, making sure he says hello to each one, while trying to decide which one he wants to take home. One could make himself dizzy following Charbie’s paw prints around in the sand. Every morning when we come home from our walk, he has sand on his nose and Shelly in his mouth, and he is just as proud as can be. I think what I love best is the look he gives me as we are heading back to the house. The look that says ‘hey, that was fun, thanks for taking me along.’ If only he knew that I enjoy our walks together just as much as he does…     

The most affectionate creature in the world is a wet dog.  ~Ambrose Bierce

 

Life on the OBX

“Because there’s nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it is sent away.” ~Sarah Kay

We made it to the Outer Banks of North Carolina! We were all giddy little school children when we found out just how close to the ocean our RV pad is. There is a sand dune right behind us, and when I climb upon it and look around, I can see Waldo in one direction, and the Atlantic Ocean in the other. Off in the distance, the Bodie Island lighthouse guides ships safely home. We cracked the window last night and lay there listening to the soothing sound of the waves crashing upon the shore. What is it about the ocean that is so captivating?

Rob begins his volunteer position tomorrow. He will tour the island and get to know the visitor’s center for a few days, and then he will begin working on his own. It will be a nice, quiet job, especially since it is the off-season here in the Outer Banks. We will be here through April, though, so slowly the shops will reopen and people will return to the island, bringing more visitors to the Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge Visitor’s Center.

I think we are going to like it here. We are going to like it a lot.

Charbie the Wander Dog

I don’t have much experience with dogs.

I do know this, though. Charbie is insane. Completely. Insane.

Never in my life have I met such a character. This dog snuffles everything. Grass. Dirt. Rocks. Shoes. He snuffles the cat constantly. He eats cat food and cat treats and cat toys. And sometimes even the cat. He loves Remington so much that as soon as he is done snuffling him, he love-nibbles up and down his back. He follows this up with some more snuffling, just for good measure. (Don’t tell Remi that I told you this, but I think he secretly enjoys it. I have watched that cat sneak up onto the couch and slide under Charbie’s chin so he could lay with him. Remington knows perfectly well that nothing, and I mean NOTHING, lies beside Charbie without being snuffled. And if the snuffling involves Remi, then nibbles are sure to follow.)

He is also a hoarder. I think he has close to a dozen tennis balls by now. He started out with a couple, and now he snags every one he can find. Even those that were intended for, oh, I don’t know, tennis. I am pretty sure that he counts his stash throughout the day to ensure that nobody is stealing his balls. He then throws said balls around the house and chases them. I often catch him batting one around while another is still in his mouth. He also enjoys dissecting stuffies.

I pick up his toys and he immediately pulls them all back out again. I wash the windows and he follows behind me smearing his nose all over them. (And yes, I am pretty sure he does this on purpose.) I stand up from the couch and he steals my warm spot before I have a chance to sit back down again. His latest accomplishment is photo-bombing. The dog should seriously receive an award for his skills.

DSC_1032 Charbie

Our little photo-bomber. Yes, he is part cow. Grazing is one of his favorite past times.

Most mornings he wakes me up by trying to push one of his toys into my hand. Or shoving his face under my hand so that I will pet him. Or dropping his chew bone on the floor. (Over and over and over again.) Or stepping on my bladder or chewing on his toenails or playing tag with Remington P. Cat. My favorite part of the morning is making the bed because I never know what is going to fall out of it. I usually find a ball or two, a squeaky pig, a kong and a slobbery tuggy. All failed attempts at waking me up.

He seems to think that he is the coolest thing since shirt pockets and that everyone in the world wants to be his friend.

And he would be right.

I have a confession to make: Remington P. Cat is not the only one who enjoys Charbie’s love-nibbles. He is so sweet and dainty about it and while he is showering me with unmistakable affection, he is looking up at me with those big brown eyes that just melt my heart. There is absolutely no doubt about it. I am in love with this little dog.

I don’t have much experience with dogs.

I do know this, though. Charbie is perfect. Absolutely. Perfect.

(And, yes, completely insane…)