Imagine if you woke up today with only the things that you gave thanks for yesterday?
Dad here; Charlie, Mia and Ajax are all wadded up next to me preventing any movement of any sort, and Marco is keeping an eye on mom in the kitchen. He has become quite enamored with her, and she claims that she doesn’t like it, but what do you think? She actually bought the spoiled little goober a dog bed for the kitchen area so he can stay in there with her; her excuse? “I don’t want to have to hold him”. It is true, he likes to be carried like a baby, except with his head hanging over backwards so he can inspect everything upside down; to be totally honest, with his big eyes and ears, he looks like some sort intoxicated fruit bat.
Regardless of what the media would have you believe, there is much to be thankful for, too much to be even begin to be contained in this post. For all its faults, we live in the most blessed country on earth, but since this is Charlie’s page and she’s just letting me wield the smartphone, I will try to limit this to the Casa del Whackos.
A year ago, I was unemployed with no prospects that I was aware of. Since that time, Bull Taco, Max, and Angel crossed the Bridge, two violently and one from old age, leaving a gaping hole in the fabric of the Casa. The kids had long since grown up and did what kids do when they’re done being kids, and the Casa del Whackos was beginning to feel like the Casa no Whackos.
But we knew that this story must be kept alive.
So we kept plugging along; first Ajax, then Marco decided to change their addresses from their respective shelters to the Casa, then Echo the Perpetually Guilty Doberman rejoined the clan. Zach and Tara now have Sandy and Lola, Alex’s roommate Libby has Maggie the Partially Unhinged, so you can only imagine the total insanity when this bunch of idiots show up en masse. And of course, orchestrating and encouraging the chaos is the force of nature called Charlie Bravo.
So today I’m thankful to once again live in an insane asylum, and to work in one as well, as what job in corporate America makes any sense whatsoever? But I know I am here for not just a reason, but a season, as nothing is constant except change, and what you do does not define who you are.
I’m thankful for mom, as a tree can only grow as tall as its roots extend into the ground, and without her, none of this would be possible. And for Gary, whose belief in the story has not wavered from the beginning, and his ceaseless willingness to use his talents and time to bring this story to the world. And also to Gary’s very significant other, Bonnie, who’s graciousness and hospitality knows no bounds, even though she has to wonder what project that we’ll be working on next.
But most of all, I’m thankful for you, the real family of Charlie Bravo. If you’re reading these words, there’s a very good chance that you relate to Charlie’s story on a visceral level beyond that of a rescue dog. Like me, maybe you feel like a misfit in today’s society, like maybe our glory days are past and gone and, like Charlie, sometimes feel we have been discarded in our crates on the side of some deserted road.
But it’s not true; you are part of something much larger than you can imagine, a family of black sheep, all veterans returning from the front bearing the scars of the battles we all face daily. Maybe a little bent, but never broken, and still determined to use what talents we have and may not even realize it, to make a difference.
To even play a tiny part in telling Charlie’s story is a blessing beyond measure. I thank each of you for tuning in; the most beautiful music is nothing without an eardrum to receive it, and without readers, a story is just random marks on a page. But more importantly, you each have your own stories; use this page to tell them and encourage others. PM me your ideas and we’ll work together to boldly go where no man has gone before;
We be of one blood ye and I.
