Dad here; we put a few hundred miles on the bike yesterday. My buddies Fletch and Kyle are fully aware of what always transpires when I get wound up, but for some reason, decide to go along anyway. I say that this exhibits certain masochistic tendencies on their part, they think it's narcissistic compulsion on mine, but it's obvious that we all need psychiatric intervention. As you know, Charlie has the tendeny to be just…

Since my metamorphosis from the crate two years ago, much has been said about my previous "owners"; do I resent them? Do I wonder if they are aware of how far I have progressed? The  gospel truth is, I don't give it a moment's consideration. I say this not out of bitterness, but based on the fact that he who angers you controls you, and I am the Charles; if even dad can't control me,…

The next time you start to say "I can't/shouldn't (insert your activity here), repeat after me: "What Would Peggy Do?" Dad and I attended an ADV motorcycle campout this weekend; this is where a bunch of usually middle aged riders get together to ride off road in remote areas, but usually the main focus of the occasion is making good natured but snarky fun of each other's choice of bikes. For those of you who…

I remember the day I first met you In the mountains full of rain and thick fog You stayed still and so quiet, until we reached home that night Then instantly became a new dog. You were there before all the others Through difficult times full of strife Many miles east and west, perched on the armrest Traveling together down the highway of life Your presence is still constant as always The memories will always…

Dad here; I apologize for the lack of response for your overwhelming offering of condolences, but it's been a somewhat of a blur.  Since the beginning of Charlie's story, I have made it a point to read and acknowledge every comment with at least a "like", as I figure  that's the very least I can do to acknowledge the fact that each of you took time to comment. The problem I'm having now is that…