When I was a sophomore in college I was greeted via email by our new family member, Charlie. My Mother never told me she planned on getting a dog, and I would have advised getting something either more useful or less easy to crush so it may survive the ridiculousness that is Riviere Pet Rearing. So naturally they get a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, a lap dog.
Charlie was the runt of his litter, whom after many psychological screenings and intelligence tests was selected by Sarah to be our dog. (Insert sarcasm here…)
We started off with a bang. (…and here)
His first given name was Ben. After my Mom and Sarah couldn’t stop calling him Bart they changed his name to Charlie… he hasn’t responded to either name since.
Charlie is a delicate soul whom sees everything and thinks nothing of it. He is Don Knots, meets “Charlie the Unicorn”, meets sneezing baby panda. His extreme lack of enthusiasm would make Rudy Ruettiger quit Notre Dame and take up meth. His apathetic charm comes through when you pick him up and he behaves as dead weight.
I think most suburban families own homosexual dogs. I know this because more often than not, the owner will announce their dog’s sexuality after he/she sniffs your crotch or humps a pillow. Charlie is probably gay… but as he gets older it’s a lot like Ian McKellen, he’s totally gay bones, but you wouldn’t know it until you saw that SNL he hosted. (If you click the link, his picture doesn’t help my point)
One last thing about Charlie. He is the house favorite. He rarely barks, he has no idea whats on the dinner table, he loves to cuddle and he watches TV with my Mom. He also constantly loses puppy wrestling and will not fetch.
Unlike Jane- his younger counter part- who shits in the house, barks too much, steals food, beats Charlie up and bites fingers for fun. Screw you Jane.
-Thank you for reading this rant about a runt-