The Stray has a Home

One Sunday, a little over a year ago, my husband and I were is a little tiff. It was so insignificant that I can't even remember what it was about. He had come home from the fire hall and we were supposed to be getting ready to go to church. He decided to stay home because they had had a busy night at the fire hall. Needless to say, I left the house still ticked off at my husband.

I go less than a mile out of our neighborhood that is surrounded by cotton fields when a little puppy jumps out of the weeds onto the side of the road. The car in front of me swerves to the left to miss him. He is stunned and stands still in the road with his little puppy ear flipped backwards. I swerve to miss him, too. Then, the car coming in the opposite direction almost hits the poor thing and I look in my rear view mirror hoping and praying that he is still in one piece. And what to you know...he had escaped the jaws of death, not once, but three times in a matter of minutes. There was no mistaking it. I had to bring the dog home until we could find him a more permanent home.

I pick up the puppy and drive him back to the house. Now remember, Damien and I are still not on the best of terms from our little disagreement. He is in the bathroom, or as my father always called it, the library, for his morning session. I knocked on the door and he cracked it. There he is, magazine in hand, sitting, not knowing what I am about to drop in his hands. I shove the puppy in the little crack that he made and say "I found this on the way to church, do something with it" and shut the door as quickly as possible. I RAN from the house back to the car and left. 

When church was over I called the house to check and see if he would even take my calls after my little stunt. He had given the puppy a bath, some food, and a name. He told me that Charlie was fine, but had mange. We called the co-op the next day and got him some mange treatment. Once he was in the clear to be petted and loved on, he became part of the family. Permanent home found! 

His existence has been a little touch-and-go at times. He ate the shoe holder, foam padding, and the spring pads for the trampoline. He climbed onto the trampoline and couldn't figure out how to get back thru the opening in the net, so he just went thru the side of the net leaving a hole you could drive a truck thru. He ate the wiring for my husbands trailer that he pulls behind his truck, twice. He ate the foam padding from the pipe that leads to the AC unit. He ate the back door frame. He has learned how to open the latch to the privacy fence and let himself out. He also ate one of the trees that my husband planted in the backyard. See what I mean when I say touch-and-go. 

But now Char-Char is as much a part of the family as any of us. There are times where it is still touch and go, but I tell my husband that he is just "misunderstood". Look at his face. How could you not just love the guy.