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…

We may not have the best of everything…

...but we still have the best of everything. I'm the Casa del Whackos, and I'm a decidely weird place. A modest house that is beginning to show the wear and tear that only a constant parade of kids, dogs, ducks, chickens, hamsters, mice, etc, can inflict. My exterior doors bear mute testimony to the thousands of canine fingernails that have scratched at my jambs demanding entry. The length of my hallway wallpaper stained approx 15"…

Dad Soup

Dad here; throughout my life, I have suffered some pretty disgusting and demeaning actions performed upon my person. Colostomy bag, ruptured Achilles tendon, barium enema, I've even slept with a CAT! I am no stranger to utter debasement. But lately, things have taken even a more drastic turn south. Because of this (technical medical term coming up, pay attention)chronic painful rib thingy I've been dealing with for the last few weeks, I've been soaking in…

Bully!

How can the powers that be discriminate against that which they cannot even properly define? When we found Charlie huddled in her crate, she weighed less than eighteen pounds. Due to her thin face, slender build, and tan feet, we initially thought that she was some type of hound mix. Then mom's concoction of puppy chow, condensed milk and raw eggs began to take effect and she began to fill out(Charlie, not mom); that thin…

The Road Winds On

Over the years, "not so good" things have happened at the Casa. Breast cancer, depression, job loss, near death experiences, all those things that make up the other side of life, all of which leave us thinking, "why us?" Then, when we somehow inevitably make it through, the eternal question: did I learn what I was supposed to learn from that experience? Because I sure dont want to have to go through that again! Sometimes…

Bed Games

Oba is gone back to North Carolina, and even the inmates can feel the change in the air. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, is piled into the one king-sized bed, which resembles an insane game of canine Tetris. You know that strip of stitching that circumnavigates the top edge of the mattress? I've always wondered as to its purpose, and tonight it was revealed to me: it was designed with me in mind, to be…

1 Waylon 3:16

1 Waylon 3:16, "it's time to get back to the basics of love", so I mosey out to my spot on the back porch of the Casa. I was severely delusional if I thought I was going to get any alone time, as the feathered little fartbags were already out there draining the feeders, and the inmates were prancing around me like a Kansas City chorus line in a mad contest to determine who could…

Pop goes the weasel

As I'm going to be a bit incognito over the next two weeks, starting a new career and all that, I figured that I would go out with a "bang", so to speak. Thanks to the kindness of others I have a great opportunity before me and i am thankful. but Charlie's story is where my heart lies. One of these days maybe it will be self supporting, but so far, it has not, so…
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