Charlie Tuna

Charlie with his buds, Asia and Quigley. He thought he was every bit as big and tough. (He was tougher, actually.)
Me with Charlie and Maxwell. Loved these two little fellas.
Breezy and Charlie after his bath. He was never impressed after a bath.
Kristi giving Charlie a little water Thursday after his second day at the vet's. I decided not to post any of his wounds...would just like to forget about them.Well, Danielle found a little dog along side of a road about a year and a half ago. There were no houses nearby, and he was a tiny dog. He had been outside, and shivering and dehydrated. I took him to the vet, and he got better. No signs were ever posted in that area about a lost dog, so we kept the little guy. I think Breezy called him Charlie Oliver. He was supposed to be her dog, but I was the one home all of the time, so soon, he was following me all over the place. In fact, for the past year and a half, I have had a little shadow. If I am here in the computer room, Charlie was under my feet. If I was crafting, he was under my craft table. If I was in the kitchen, he was begging for some tasty tidbits or laying on a little fleece blanket in the kitchen. He slept with W and I. If I got up to pee, and then went wandering, he got out of bed, and wandered with me, giving me this look like "Small dogs should really be in bed."

He was a toughie. Terriers are known as tough little guys and he was no exception. He liked to run the fence with the big dogs and you should have seen the smile on his face. He also liked to sneak into the neighbor's yard, which didn't used to be a big deal, as the owner had two little Maltese dogs, and they all ran together. Charlie would be a very good lesson in staying in your own yard or path and what can happen if you don't, but I'm not to that part of his story just yet.

Kristi got a little dog that I have previous blogged about. He was Max. He was one of Charlie's best friends. Austin found a little kitten and to our surprise, he loved all of the dogs, especially Maxwell and Charlie. Maxwell spent so much time over here, I got him a little doggie bed. It was not uncommon to find Maxwell and the cat in the bed, and Charlie nearby. They all played and I nicknamed them "The Three Muskateers." I took many, many pictures of them, and posted them on Facebook. Oh, they were so funny together. The joy and happiness and silliness they added to our lives was just unmeasurable.

I posted that around a month or so ago, Maxwell got hurt, and the neighbor said it was the fence. I thought his dogs had bitten him, but there was that lingering doubt. We had to put him to sleep. It was such a sad time. W and the neighbor worked on the fence between us, and I checked it out almost daily.

I didn't check it out a week ago Friday, though, as Danielle had a doctor's appt to have all of her wisdom teeth removed. I got showered and dressed, and not certain if Danielle had arrived yet, but Stephanie rushed outside, then came back in the front, and it was one of those moments that just nearly stops your heart. She was crying and cradling Charlie in her arms and he was whimpering and both of them were covered in blood. I could tell he was in very grave condition. We scrambled to see who could take Danielle to the oral surgeon, Jennifer was heading to a doctor's appt, Stephanie had to work soon. I took Danielle to the oral surgeon as planned and Steph and Breezy took Charlie to the vet. I had called ahead and told my vet to do whatever needed to be done even if it was put him to sleep and I'd be in after Danielle's appt to sign paperwork, etc.

I mentioned to the oral surgeon, that little dog had just been attacked by the neighbor dog, that he had gone under the fence, couldn't get back, and Stephanie saw the dogs attacking him. When she yelled at him, they backed off, but were still circling him. I think she put herself in danger, just to rescue him. Anyway, the oral surgeon related that he had been running in this park, and stopped at a water fountain to get a drink. He said this lady with two pitbulls was right behind him, and he didn't feel comfortable, so he asked her if they were friendly. She said they were, so he bent down to get a drink, and one of them lunged at him, and bit his face. He said he had a friend stitch him all up.

We picked Charlie up at 1:30 from the vet with instructions. I couldn't believe he was still alive. He had a sutured gash entirely across his lower chest, his tail and butt were bitten badly as well about about ten to twelve individual punctures. His survival was 'iffy' but he was a terrier and they say terriers are tough.

I spent nearly every minute of every day with him. He cried if I left him and he couldn't see me. I didn't think he had a chance....We cleaned his wounds with peroxide twice a day as instructed. I used the kids soft fleece blankets to make a pallet for him and we held him. I took him to my vet every morning for hydration therapy, antibiotics and pain med, then I took him home. He didn't really have any good days. It was like we were suddenly placed half way up a mountain and needed to reach to top, but just kept sliding further down the hill....

At first he could get up. He slowly wandered around to all of his favorite comfort spots, trying to find some place he would feel better. He slept best under my computer table--figure that one. I slept on the floor in here with him for part of one night. One night, had his pallet on the love seat, and he was able to move to the unprotected other side, and had his little head up on the armrest...Arlen got up at 5 am and said we may have to throw this sofa away, as Charlie was draining on it. I told him I didn't care--he wanted to lay there.

Last Sunday, I knew he was infected. He really was starting to smell, and it was horrible. The vet changed his antibiotic to Baytral, or some such antibiotic, and he picked up a bit for about half a day. I think Monday, he actually peed for the first time. He also wandered into the yard and looked at the two dogs who were looking back at him....and I wondered what he was thinking. It was then I knew that if he survived, he'd have to go live with my daughter, Kristi as he certainly couldn't live here with the threat next door.

He was really bad Thursday, so the vet kept him and cleaned up and irrigated all of his wounds. He removed more fur, and poor Charlie looked like a Chinese Crested dog. I didn't tell him, though. They are dumb dogs and it would have depressed him. I called him Franken-stenchy, as he was all sutured up and stinky from infection. I washed more towels and blankets and used more clorox in a one week period than I have used in a life time.

Charlie never could eat. He mostly couldn't even drink. The Saturday after the attack, he could take a lot of pedialyte from a syringe, but he stopped drinking Sunday. Bad sign. He drank a little maybe Monday or Tuesday after the antibiotic was changed...He looked very perky after the Thursday stay at the vets, and I had hope of his survival, but he went down hill in a couple of hours. The kids held him at first, but he was too sore to be held much near the end. He went for his usual vet trip Friday morning. I asked for Tramadol to give him for pain besides the Metacam the vet was giving him, but He said the Metacam was enough. Well, Charlie started crying in the early afternoon. I called the vet to ask if I could get the Tramadol, then while on the phone, thought I better just take Charlie back in. It was a tough trip. He cried. I cried. I am so thankful for Kristi taking us, as I could not have made it there.

I saw Kristi kind of stiffen up, but I was singing to Charlie, then I heard, "Slee-ep in heav-en-ly pea-eece. Sleep in Heavenly Peace..." What the heck, or some such thing I sputtered out...cried...We were right at the turn for the vets. We took him in and I just cried. I was such a basket case. I'm crying just thinking about it. I wanted to post about my Charlie, but man, so hard. If you haven't loved and been loved by a little dog like Charlie, you just can't relate. If you have, then you know something of how I felt.

The staff put us in a room, and Dr Hunt looked at Charlie. We both agreed he had fought a good fight, but he was in pain, and severely infected, and was best to put him to sleep. He administered the drugs and almost immediately said, "He is gone." He walked out of the room, and I don't think it was a reflex, but Charlie had a way of looking at me out of the corner of his eye when he didn't agree necessarily with something I had said, and his eyes which had been looking forward, turned and he looked at me, then just as quick they went forward. It was if he said, I am not gone, and I will chose when I go...then he was gone. I told Kristi he had looked at me, and to put her head down and listen for his heart beat to make certain, and she did. Did I mention he was very infected, stinky and his body was so bruised and broken....

I had taken a blank check from an account we actually have some money in, as I had no clue what my vet bill was going to be. The emergency center Kristi took Maxwell to, wanted over $3,000 up front, and that was for a day and a half of care. Charlie had two surgeries and was there every day. I told Dr Hunt I wanted Charlie cremated. I have Alex's ashes and added Little Bud's ashes a few months ago. Well, they are both in little plastic, but mother of pearl looking urns. Little Bud has the last of that type container the ACS place had. Now they use little containers that look like cookie canisters. I thought that was kind of fitting for a little dog that had a sweet tooth. We shared many a chocolate chip cookie, with me finding him a bite without a chip in it.

Well, neighbor never said one thing. I hadn't called the authorities, as didn't seem they are concerned if a dog kills another dog, only if he bites a human. Also, Charlie had been on his property. Stephanie was working at Subway yesterday, and the neighbor came in with a friend. She said he was joking around and wanted some free cookies from her. She told him if she gave him any free food, she'd be fired. She said he was acting all stupid. He said, "By the way, how is your dog doing." She said that we had to put him to sleep the day before. "He said, Oh really, I thought he had a scratch." He then continued to say, "Maxwell and Charlie must have been tangled up in the fence as my dogs aren't vicious. I even walk them without a leash." Ok, that did me in. There was that planted doubt that his dogs hadn't bit Maxwell, but Stephanie SAW them attacking Charlie, and the neighbor had opened his gate to let her out and Steph and Charlie were covered in blood and he thought it was a scratch?

I sent a note off to the sheriff's office. I didn't take action after Maxwell...and lost Charlie. I don't want to feel responsible for what those dogs do next. I also want to move. I've really had it. W does not want to move, but this is not heaven on earth over here any longer.

I am thankful for my sweet children. I am thankful Kristi stayed over and kept me company. I am thankful they don't really say anything when I start crying....just so sad. My little sister's husband was diagnosed with stage IV cancer the week before all of this drama, and I don't even have the energy to go into any of my feelings about that right now. My mom lands later today. I wanted to impress her with a lovely fresh clean house. W took off work yesterday, as told them we had a death in the family. The new floor is freshly swept, mopped and waxed, which usually takes me a week, but W helped me. My laundry is finished, but that is about it. House looks like hell just like it always does.

I only personally have a bird and a dog, Quigley now. Lost three pets this summer and a little innocent granddog. Danielle's Asia lives here, and Breezy has a very tiny Chihuahua that only goes outside with an escort, and isn't into running the fence with the killer dogs. She knows danger when she sees it. Worried about Steph's cat, though. He is the last remaining member of our little Three Muskateers. I'm never getting another dog. Too old to ever go through this again. I just hope they don't attack Asia or Quigley, but at least they are too big to go under the fence....and just have to pray they stay safe.