[Dailydrool] Young Charlie turns 3

[Elizabeth Lindsey]

Today is young Charlie's third birthday. We've had him a little over  
two years now, which is twice as long as his first family had him.  
They gave him up to Bluegrass Basset Rescue when he was eleven months  
old because he was too wild and destructive. They had wanted a  
"docile" (their words) dog. So if they wanted a docile dog, what were  
they doing getting a buppy? In my experience, the only docile buppy  
is a sick buppy.

But their mistake was our gain. We fostered Charlie and quickly  
failed at it. There were plenty of days during his first year with us  
when the only thing that saved him from being killed outright was how  
adorable he looked when he curled up on my lap and went to sleep (the  
day he chewed a corner of my harp remains a black, black day in this  
house). But once he neared his second birthday, he began to calm  
down. I wouldn't call him a docile dog, but at least he now takes  
naps during the day and isn't busy busy busy all the time looking for  
trouble to get into. Buppies do eventually grow up and settle a  
little, even the wild ones like Charlie.

Charlie gives us tremendous joy, despite his continued propensity to  
do at least one naughty thing a day. This isn't a matter of still  
waiting for the big boy brains to arrive. He's had his big boy brains  
for ages. Charlie's a very smart boy and knows exactly what he's  
doing when he chooses to hop up on our bed to see what clothing Ken's  
left up there to drag through the house. He isn't being dumb when he  
gets up on the coffee table to look for magazines to tear up. He's  
simply being irrepressible. And while I holler at him, I secretly  
relish his irrepressibility and the happy twinkle in his eyes when he  
has something in his mouth he wants to use to play keep-away from me  
with. He has a joie de vivre that adds tremendously to our lives.

Yesterday as he was shaking Ken's fleece hat to death in the dining  
room, I informed him that he was enjoying his very last day of being  
a Terrible Two. In 24 hours, no more excuses for being naughty; he  
would be expected to act like an adult. He thought that was the  
silliest thing he'd ever heard, and he danced away from me with the  
hat still in his mouth and a smirk on his face. Today, his first day  
of being three, he's behaved with admirable maturity and restraint.  
But the day's only half over, so there's still plenty of time for him  
to find some trouble. Because it's raining, we won't be able to take  
any walks or go to the dog park as a special birthday activity, but  
after supper we'll put three Milk Bones on a dog-friendly cake I  
baked last night and sing to him and wish him many more birthdays to  
come.

Elizabeth