My Life's Vignettes: Part 1: Charley: PART II: MEMORIES

Sometimes God gives us Angels in very unorthodox forms. Charley was one such form. A little bit of a strange form for sure. He was not quite the perfect Schnauzer; such as uniform in shape or the ideal height. He was, well, a little taller than most Schnauzers and a little more pepper than salt. But Charley was an Angel.


The first three years of his life were spent in a pet taxi, which must have accounted for the immediate response, when told to kennel up by his devoted new owner. He never blinked an eye. He took his place upon his warm blanket and waited patiently for his master to open his door and set him free. But, his kenneling- up days were few, since he always slept in the bed with my daughter, his savior.

His early life of captivity was inherent only because his owner was old and barely able to care for himself. The old man didn’t mean to traumatize Charley. He loved him, but couldn’t properly give him the care that he needed.

Sweet Charley was no stranger to captivity, nor was he considered a family dog. We called him our foster dog since he moved from one home to another. His life in the pet taxi continued after he moved from South Louisiana to South Arkansas. His second owners already had several dogs and Charley just didn’t fit in. Most of the time, male dogs don’t usually get along. This was no exception. Charley found himself living alone in a kennel in a back room of the house. Charley went outside to potty, and maybe for a brief few moments had a chance to sniff the ground that he so longed to sniff. But much too soon he was back in his dungeon, alone and sad.

Charley’s life continued to be lonely and hopeless until the day my daughter discovered him. The owners were glad to rid themselves of their lonely, sad burden. They sent him packing once again. But this time was different.

Charley went back to Louisiana, but not in a pet taxi. He rode in the front seat; either in my daughter’s lap or on the passenger side of the car, watching the trees fly by. He knew that he was free at last.

My daughter fell in love with Charley, deeply and forever. He never wanted for anything. He lived inside and slept in the bed, on his own pillow, next to my daughter. She groomed him and fed him and gave him enough love to make up for his lonely days of captivity.

When he was about six years old we moved to South Arkansas and of course Charley moved too. He adjusted to his new surroundings as easily as everyone else. It didn’t take him long to pick out his favorite place to sleep during the day, which was always on the couch, in my daughter’s lap. His eyes showed nothing but love and devotion for her, because he knew she was his salvation.

The day came though, when we brought another precious pet into the household. Her name was Anana. She was a beautiful Siberian Husky and Charley fell in love again. He became a little more excitable and not as content to lie around and just devour our attention. Sometimes, it was hard to get him to do anything we told him to do. Even the toys he loved were pushed to the side as he tried so hard to become friends with Anana.

By the early summer though, they were best friends. They played and ran around the back yard, but when night time came Charley was ready to hop up on the bed and snuggle once more with my daughter.

July 9th, 2007 began as an ordinary day except for the lightening that just wouldn’t cease. Later in the afternoon it began to clear off. But since the lightening had been so bad, we decided to bring Anana in before we left for a dinner engagement. Charley was always in the house, except when he went out to potty or play with Anana.

We returned a few hours later to find our house on fire. The fire department was already there when we arrived. We feared the worst but prayed for a miracle.

The fire started from lightening which hit a tree. It ran down the tree through the roots into a metal flowerbed edging, through the brick wall and into a light receptacle into my granddaughter’s bedroom.

We stood outside praying as once then twice they brought our precious, helpless babies out. Neither one of them made it. They did not burn, but the smoke and heat over took them. The fireman said Charley had been shut up in the burning room. This was a very unusual phenomenon because the door was seldom shut. But, because it was shut the fireman said it saved the whole house from going up in flames.

How ironic; after all the love and devotion he now had, he was trapped again and couldn’t get out. The next day we found the outline of Charley under my granddaughter’s bed. The outline was still perfectly white where Charley had been lying. His little head was stretched out reaching toward the door as if he knew that was where safety was.

We hope and pray that God just let them go to sleep without any pain.



By Debbie Aycock Williams 2008

3rd place winner, Arkansas Writer's Conference
copyright 2008

Part II....

MEMORIES

A whiff of a long lost scent which clung to your tweed jacket


The one that you wrapped around my shoulders as we walked the calles of Cali

The warmth of your arms permeating through the fabric unto my skin

Left a scar that transcended into my heart



A scent that surrounds me with hope

Of which life comes full circle

And someday the aroma in the air will be

Of that tweed jacket and the arms tucked inside



Older now, the scent must be softer, more subtle

Tender yet worn from the years of wear and tear

But no less the scent in my memory

Of a closeness buried deep into the threads of that familiar garment



Forty years have passed and your voice transcends time

As you speak, I close my eyes your voice permeates my conscience

Your penetrating accent pulls me back in time

Slowly moving, pressed together in rhythm of the Kontiki’s Latin song



Did you say Rendezvous? Yes! Where? When?

Cartegena,! Cool nights, ancient history, your blue tweed jacket

Arms wrapped around my shoulders as we stroll the narrow calles

Your wafted scent bringing me closer to what I thought was lost forever







By Debbie Aycock Williams