The Charlie Bravo Story

What’s beyond the next curve

Enough already with the steady diet of the Corvacalypse; it’s Charlie Bravo Day! As an added bonus, a good friend of ours is completing his last sessions of chemotherapy and radiation today, and Charlie, Zach and I are joining with a group of riders to give him a motorcycle escort back to his own Casa; stay tuned.

Anyway, back to the subject at paw, dogs;
what prompts this hold that dogs have upon us? Does it start with that first whiff of puppy breath? Or is it the utter enjoyment they experience every time that they yawn? That high pitched whine from the back of their throat notifying the tongue to curl its tip, then the look of smug satisfaction in a job well done.

All dogs have a common denominator, enthusiasm, from Greek enthousiastikos, literally “possessed by the gods.” Pitties seem to carry this to a ridiculous extreme when taken by a case of the FRAPS, or Frenetic Random Activity Periods, known to many as “the zoomies”. It’s in there, it just has to find a way out, this fire shut up in their very bones. And be honest; who among you doesn’t secrectly wish for the same levels of strength and joy to go charging madly around for absolutely no reason and every reason? Just “because”?

I actually have had these fits myself; once was up in the Ozarks on a road trip. I had stopped the bike at a scenic overlook, and “Dueling Banjos” was bluetoothing inside my helmet. I was in the middle of my highland fling when I noticed a car with Iowa tags had pulled into the parking lot and the occupants were laughing their Yankee butts off at the midget redneck; if they could only have seen what I was feeling.

Charlie takes this concept to ridiculous levels; at the slightest indication that we’re going to “GO!”, she loses her everloving mind. Charks and chowls cannot be contained and fill the air, even after the bike starts rolling, and even after we return, as she then uses her perch as a vantage point to scan the yard for impudent squirrels the need taught a lesson in humility.

Anyone who doesn’t believe that a canine has a soul hasn’t actually taken the time to really look into a dog’s eyes. Equal to a human’s in most respects? in many areas no, but I also don’t think a dog would ever want to be equal to man in these areas, as his happiness seems to lie in his service, and in that category they vastly exceed our meager inclinations.

Unless you’re dealing with Charlie, then she believes that that whole “service” things needs to stay a bit more tilted in her favor, but she is the anomaly.

And eyes are the window to the soul; some dogs look at you, some dogs look through you, but if you’re really fortunate, you will encounter a dog that can look into you. Uki was one of these dogs, as was Beebe, and then Max. Stevie and Bull Taco were acquiring this trait when they were snatched away far too soon. But Charlie has taken the art to a whole different level; it’s like her time in the crate has given her a completely different perspective.

And then, in an instant, she reverts from philosopher to philanderer and she’s off flouncing around on her next adventure. Because that’s what life is, a series of adventures, incredibly exciting curves connected by stretches of hot, boring highway miles.

And we live for the curves…

See you on the road.

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