The Charlie Bravo Story

My Story Begins Here…

Dad here. On a cold, raw day in January, my son Zach and I were making a high speed pass through a rural area east of Little Rock when we spotted a dog crate partially hidden in the weeds beside the road. Something – or Someone – made us stop and check the crate. What we found was beyond horrible... A full sized dog reduced to a ragged, scabby skeleton, smelling so strongly of death…
The Charlie Bravo Story

The way home

Dad here; where is "home"? Not the brick and mortar building that the mortgage company no doubt owns more of than you do anyway, but that place where you can reconnect and recharge? Is it in a few minutes of stillness and solitude in the evening? Or in boisterous community around a kitchen table? Is it in walking or running or biking through streets or through hills? Is it in listening to music? Or, better…
The Charlie Bravo Story

Claire Bear

Many questions have been asked about the origins of the Claire Bear; thus us exactly why dad and I started the blog at thecharliebravostory.com as a supplement to the Facebook page. Beteeen the facts that my story has so many twists and turns and also that FB has a tendency to move posts around willy-nilly, we decided we needed a place where we could keep the posts in chronological order. This was so if some…
The Charlie Bravo Story

Wait for the morning

Dad here; life since Charlie Bravo has been a rollercoaster, albeit one without the benefit of safety belts to give a sense of security, or rails to give the car a sense of direction. In that case, I guess that it's been like life in general for everyone else on the planet, except exponentially sped up by the catalyst of a sleek black force of nature that gave it some direction. Before we go any…
The Charlie Bravo Story

The Marcoterrorist

The darkest hour is always just before dawn, but even through the inky blackness, we can detect movement along the perimeter. The Marcoterrorist is up to his usual tactics, using the volume of mom's lumberjack activities(does OSHA know that she operates a sawmill at night? Is that even legal?) to cover the sound of his stealthy approach as he probes our defenses in search of a way of attack. By our defenses, I am implying…
The Charlie Bravo Story

Hope for the Hopeless 2.0

Mom here; Charlie and Dad are the storytellers; Mom is well… just Mom.  The dowager queen,so to say, and I'm OK with this. I've never liked the spotlight; I work happily and quietly in the background. But today I'm charged with telling part of a story…(dad here; as well she should; she knows all the details, I just wander around in a haze, doing her bidding) Yeah, right; anyway, a follower of Charlie's page who…
The Charlie Bravo Story

Time don’t wait for nobody

It just keeps moving on. It's been a crazy week, with enough tinder to spark a hundred posts, only to be capped off tonight by a follower of this page reaching out for help. Her life has recently been turned upside down by the unexpected death of her husband, leaving her to deal with not only that overwhelming issue, but having to move in with her daughter, and rehome her five dogs. By this weekend;…
The Charlie Bravo Story

Hope for the Hopeless

Dad here; I have officially given up on all hope. Any glint of daylight that I could sense just over the horizon has been forever extinguished, and I must resign myself to the sad but undeniable fact: I will never be normal. Friday night mom and celebrated our thirtieth anniversary by going to Oxford, MS to see Cody Jinks perform. Cody has recently become the soundtrack of the Casa del Whackos, as far as I'm…
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