Charlie

Let me tell you a little bit about this dog.

Charlie's vocabulary comprehension is comparable to that of a three-year-old human. If you say, "Where's the ball?" he will show you where his tennis ball is. If you're conversing with somebody and if you say "cat" in the middle of a sentence, Charlie's ears will perk up and he'll whimper as if he's saying, "Where's the cat?!"

He knows his way around the neighborhood. Leashes are almost a foreign concept to him. According to Sarah (my stepmom), she didn't have to teach him to not walk into traffic -- Charlie already knew not to.

Sarah was a sign language interpreter at Carlina's middle school before she met my dad. One day, Carlina wanted to see Charlie, who was a puppy at that time, so my dad took her to Sarah's apartment, and soon he became friends with her... and the rest is history.

Charlie likes to steal food. He has mastered the art of snatching whole cakes from the counter and gobbling them up before anybody takes notice. He did it once when my dad was only ten feet away. He has done it so often that he is now immune to chocolate. Last April, he stole a box of donuts I had just bought and ate the whole dozen, and he didn't get sick at all. I don't know whether that's a good or bad thing.

When Sarah was alive, she'd take Charlie here all the time and throw a frisbee around with him. He has a habit of running in a big circle whenever someone has his frisbee in their hand. Well, Sarah took him here so often that there was actually a ring-shaped track of dirt right in the middle of the yard. Sarah, although amused, felt so bad, but the town eventually replaced the grass.

So that's Charlie. If you want to know him in his entirety, come on over. He'll be really happy to meet you.