The moment we met Charlie, I knew he was trouble. He was about the size of your hand and when we approached, he promptly attacked Gordon’s shoe laces. My husband smiled and said, “I’ll take him.”
Since then Charlie proved to be a shining example of a French Bulldog in all things: he is adorable, he is comical, and he alternates between feisty and cuddly. He is even trainable due to being very food-motivated.
He also attempts to injure himself in creative ways with depressing regularity. You see, he thinks he is the size of a Kodiak and so he attacks construction equipment, and leaps off things, and charges into a fight between two large dogs.
We were gone to a convention. We had a very packed schedule and it was one of those “eat dinner at 10pm” days. We are eating dinner, and I get a phone call. Charlie attacked a toad. Most Texas toads are slightly toxic but a cane toad will kill a dog. The kids didn’t think it was a cane toad but they rushed Charlie to the vet, where this dog, high as a kite on toxic toad slime, bit the vet. They still love him over there because “he is high on life.” The kids didn’t call us until they were sure he was out of the woods.
On a different trip, a year later, Kid 1 was determined to make sure that nothing happened to Charlie. She carried him everywhere. She put him on and off the couch. She spoiled him terribly, by the way, and for a while he would whine at obstacles instead of leaping to the occasion.
The trip is over. We walk through the door. Charlie, who is being carried by Kid 1 along the upstairs walkway, sees Gordon, wrenches out of her hands, dashes down the stairs, trips three stairs before the end of the staircase, and faceplants in front of us.
Kid 1 looks at him for a long moment and says, “I am done.”
The kids refuse to watch Charlie now, because they don’t want to be blamed if he injures himself. He has to be boarded with strict instructions to not be allowed in the general population. He can only play with our dogs.
This summer, Gordon and I were down in the yard. It’s a largish property with about an acre and change enclosed by a fence. We have a shed at the far end of it, where Christmas decorations and lawn equipment live. On this particular day, the dogs make a beeline for the shed. There is some growling and fussing, and we call them back and Gordon takes them up to the house, while I pause at the office. That day we were watching our grand-dogs, so we had a sizeable pack.
I get up to the house about 10 minutes later and realize Charlie isn’t there. He is not in the living room, or the bedroom, or the study. Most importantly, there are treats being given out on the kitchen and Charlie isn’t there either.
A frantic search for Charlie ensues. It’s Texas summer, we are clocking 105F, and although Charlie has a nose unlike a lot of Frenchies – don’t get me started – the heat is not good for him.
He is not at the house. The gates are locked. There are no holes he could’ve escaped under the fence. The last time we saw him he was at the shed. We conclude that he must be still at the shed.
We get a flashlight and go down to the shed. I drop down on one side, Gordon on the other, and sure enough, that little jerk is under the shed in the gravel. He crawled in there, probably trying to get at whatever excited the dogs in the first place.
Gordon has a moment, looks at me, and says in this weird voice. “I can’t lift the shed.”
He doesn’t need to lift the shed. Charlie isn’t stuck. He crawled in there until his back touched the bottom of the shed and stopped, because he is not the smartest dog in the kennel.
Because of the lack of smarts, Charlie is trained to a recall command. It is a command that is used only in emergencies and it always means food. It’s there so if Charlie ever runs into traffic, we can recall him before he gets hit.
I get behind Charlie and call him. Predictably, he turns right around and squirms right out from under the shed.
Three nights ago, we are taking the dogs out to the back. It’s dark. Gordon has the small dogs, and I have Sookie, the giant Ye Olde English Buldogge, who is very elderly now. She is on three different medications just so she can move and getting her out of the house is an ordeal. It takes me a little bit.
When I get out there, the dogs have taken off toward the fence and Gordon has gone down there to run interference. Sookie takes a whiff of the night air and then charges like her hips don’t hurt.
Clearly the wildlife dug a new hole under the fence.
Me: “Is everything okay?”
Gordon: “Yeah. Something got under the fence. Charlie made this weird noise I haven’t heard before.”
I see Charlie running toward me and then I say, “Hey, come and grab him. I know what got him.”
“How?”
“You’ll see.”
Yeah.
Normally I would recommend taking the dog to the vet for quill removal, especially if they are in the dog’s face. The vet would give the dog anesthetic and porcupine quills have barbs on them, which require force to remove and can cause abscesses if they break off. However, this was after hours and we have exactly 1 emergency vet in the area and they are always swamped. Since this was not a life threatening emergency or our first porcupine rodeo, and since the quills were mostly in his hind end, we agreed to spare him the 4 hour wait.
He got a yummy treat and the quills were removed with pliers. Porcupines don’t actually shoot quills, they smack you with their tail, and Charlie only had 3 quills in his face, so he at least was smart enough to turn around. He just didn’t run away in time, but he was trying to, which was why the quills weren’t that deep in there. It’s been four days now and we’ve been checking him for the signs of barbs and so far so good.
He is being taken out on a leash now after dark until we can make sure that our hole repair holds.
oh nooooo!!!!
So glad he’s okay.
I call it small dog syndrome. we had a weird mutt the size of a dachshund who thought he was a lion. Luckily, he had a bigger dog brother who had his back.
Awww Charlie. Those quills look painful. Poor goofball.
Dogs never learn to leave things alone! I had one hit 3x over the years by encounters with black and white striped @kitties” they wanted to chase.
Good Lord, his guardian angel(s) must be exhausted!
Ohh Charlie 😂😂😂
Furbabies what would your life be without them? Quiet, less expensive, and no trips to the vet, but no laughter, and no stories, or butt photos.
aww… Sookie has a great snorggly face, and Mr. Charlie now has a sore bottom. I have a beast that is a toy poodle on the outside, and a rabid xl bully on meth on the inside, who has a princess complex. She believes the backyard is her personal buffet, and that rabbit doodies are a nice appetizer. Unfortunately, moles and voles are her favorite entree, but will prompt a vet visit as they will agitate her bad gallbladder. Emergency vets are Hella expensive.
🤣🤣🤣🤣 adventures with Charlie. thanks for sharing!
First of all that is a truly awesome name. Charles Tubbins, I salute you. I can also relate to “trainable due to being very food-motivated” and feeling occasionally like I didn’t turn around fast enough to avoid being smacked by the porcupine quills of life. (As with Charlie, we will simply ignore the fact that if I hadn’t gone charging out ridiculously, I wouldn’t have had to worry about said porcupine quills of life.)
I’m sorry, but I had to snort laugh! Poor Charlie! Love the photos! Thanks for sharing.
LOL poor Charlie. He is the size of a lion in his heart. He needs Grendel to protect him from himself lol
Snort. That made me think of the Undertaker WWE meme https://www.google.com/amp/s/amp.knowyourmeme.com/memes/undertaker-standing-behind-aj-styles
Grendel standing behind Mr Tubs as he goes on new bigger-than-Frenchie-butts adventures.
I’m not a dog person. Actually, not a pet person, at all. But I really enjoyed reading about Charles Tubbins’ adventures. Thanks.
I saw the picture at the top and started singing “yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me”.
He is too precious
I’m kind of surprised the porcupine bothered to come into your yard. As many dogs as you have around the place, you’d think it would realize it wasn’t a good place to hang out. Maybe porcupines don’t have great sniffers??
Now that’s funny. Can Conlan get another dog, besides Grendel?
Oh, poor Charlie!! Glad he’s feeling better! And Sookie, defending the homestead despite her arthritis! 💖
Like you, over the course of our 25 year marriage we’ve had multiple breeds of dogs, usually at least two at a time, sometimes more. The years I was doing dog rescue the number was higher and flexed regularly. I read this post out load to my husband this morning and we both laughed until we teared up…it’s just so relatable. Dogs…gotta love ’em. Glad Charles Tubbins is okay, though the experience probably won’t deter him. Regarding Sookie, such a sweet little old girl, have you tried CBD oil? It may conflict with her other meds so best to ask a vet about that, but several of my friends with older, larger dogs – bloodhounds, great danes, labs – have seen really good results when they started using it.
Every time there are pet stories here, I think what a good life the HA pets (and grand-pets) have! Adventures, treats, and plenty of pets, and such great TLC when the adventures are a little too adventuresome.
On a completely different topic…is there a Horde/HA-recommended dinner roll recipe? Maybe a variation on milk bread, or a favorite from “The Bread Lover’s Bread Machine Cookbook”? This blog and group have inspired me to greater bread-making aspirations :).
Ilona’s milk bread recipe is here https://ilona-andrews.com/blog/milk-bread/ 🙂.
The comments also have some good suggestions. Making Thanksgiving rolls?
Yes! I have somewhere between eight and eighteen coming (it’s kind of an open house) :).
Thank you for the link–that’s the post I was remembering!
I think Charlie may be the comic relief to all the editing and fridge woes!!🤣🤪🤣🤪 glad he’s doing wel gotta love the goofball anyway!
🤦♀️🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Charlie Tubbins dog extraordinaire. First a face plant. Second hiding under a shed. Third porcupine wrestling. It will be interesting to read his next adventure. 🤔
To quote Bilbo Baggins in Fellowship of the Ring, “I’m quite ready for another adventure.” 😉 😂😂😂
Thanks for the laughs.
As opposed to my friend whose great dane was raised with cats. He thought he weighed about 12 pounds and wanted to sit on people’s lap. Nobody warned me so I have a picture of myself somewhere with a 100 pound dog on my lap. His front feet were still on the floor.
Our last dog was a “small standard” (less than 20 pounds, but not a miniature) dachshund and *terminally* territorial. I named him for Wolverine for a reason! Well, he was short, wore brown, and tended to get excited…)
The neighbor’s big orange tom cat was harassing the girl cats in the back yard, so I opened the back door.
The interloping tom looked and dismissed Wolvie as a small dog. Wolvie accelerated the whole way and hit that poor cat like a runaway truck, completely bowling him over. (No teeth or claws were deployed.)
I had never seen that cat run as fast he did – and I didn’t see him in my yard again.
Make no mistake – *his* back yard and *his* kitty buddies.
My goodness! I thought I was reading a new novella! I glad for all it worked out.
☺️☺️☺️we also had a lovely pooch called Charlie. He was a terrier/ corgi mix ( or that was the conclusion everyone who met him came to). He was a rescue dog so we never knew his age but we had him for 12 wonderful years.
BUT……. For a small dog he would take on the BIGGEST dog /s anyone would care to put in front of him. I always said he had a Napoleon complex but we loved him just the same❤️❤️💔
Wow. What a guy, your Charlie. He’s lucky to have your love.
This perfectly captures what it’s like to own a Frenchie. Both of mine would do all these things. 😂
Frenchies! Hearts of Lions. And think they are the size of one.
Love ‘em. So adorably entertaining.
I have been very fortunate that none of my dogs have tangled with a porky. skunks are another matter.
I am now just hearing Gaston’s Graphic Audio voice “I consider myself a man of adventure.”
Aww poor Charlie. Some puppers are extra special.
OMG. I feel bad about laughing but let’s be honest – I’m totally laughing.
My husband and I used to dogsit for my parents when they went out of town, and it was always guaranteed that one of their dogs would end up at the emergency vet while they were gone. It never failed (thankfully in every instance, all dogs were fine when they returned). The one I remember most is when their rescued German Shepherd/Akita got a deer bone stuck on one of his teeth [facepalm] – of COURSE it was after hours and OF COURSE we couldn’t remove it so we had to take him in and the vet was able to remove it under mild sedation.
I’m so glad Charlie has survived all his misadventures!
Hahahahaha, oh Charlie!
Oh Charlie! We had a mini schnauzer and one day we went outside at night (dark, no lights except my flashlight). All of a sudden he races around the corner barking his head off. I smelled the skunk before I saw it. Our dog had him cornered on the back steps. Thankfully our dog listened to me when I called him off, though not fast enough for him to avoid being sprayed!