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 Birds, Part Deux

Dad here: welcome to my world. Charlie and I are currently hiding out in the Cave Canem in a desperate attempt at maintaining some sanity. You see, the Casa has been invaded be a barbarian horde of vicious, noisy, furry little creatures. Wait just a minute; Titus has also just showed up in search of refuge, and I expect that Claire and Stubb will be following shortly. What about Mom and her dogs, you ask?…

The Honda CB500X

Let's go back to the beginning for just a bit, shall we? We can do the Cliff notes if you prefer: a recent motorcycle incident had left me severely injured with a colostomy bag, an open abdominal scar and an empty bank account as constant reminders of my personal position in life. I remember the cold, rainy day in January, sitting on the couch in horror as my stoma was spitting out nuggets from my…

The Pitts of Hell

Like many, I had been conditioned to fear what I didn't understand. The media lives and dies by its ability to find a scapegoat to keep us in fear, and one of its favorites is the pit bull. When I found Charlie, I was alarmed to discover she was part pit, but we decided to deal with it instead of flee from it, and here we are. Then came Stevie Mae, followed by Claire Bear,…

Father’s Day

Since Dad was in the Zuckerberg gulag yesterday, he couldn't couldn't post the following “A father acts on behalf of his children by working, providing, intervening, struggling, and suffering for them. In so doing, he really stands in their place. He is not an isolated individual, but incorporates the selves of several people in his own self." Happy Father's Day! Or am I even allowed to say that in this age of "toxic masculinity"? Or…

Happy Father’s Day

Since Dad was in the Zuckerberg gulag yesterday, he couldn't couldn't post the following “A father acts on behalf of his children by working, providing, intervening, struggling, and suffering for them. In so doing, he really stands in their place. He is not an isolated individual, but incorporates the selves of several people in his own self." Happy Father's Day! Or am I even allowed to say that in this age of "toxic masculinity"? Or…

Stubb loses his clackers

I'm waiting... In this cold cell When the bell begins to chime Reflecting, on my clackers And I haven't got much time At 8 o'clock they'll take take me to the gallows pole the sands of time for my balls are running low... They're hanging low... When the vet comes to read me the last rites I take a look through the bars to see the last sights Of a line of dogs that are…

Memories

Dad here; Sunday morning at the Casa. Mom bought new sheets for the kingsize yesterday, and as always, the inmates assumed the purchase was for their exclusive benefit. I'll be heading back west soon, but this time solo, as it's going to be an arduous journey. I've been asked to carry Marty's ashes to somewhere high in the Rockies, and the passes are still socked in with snow, but they should be clearing a bit…
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