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.
I think if Charlie were my dog I would have had a nervous breakdown by now!. Instead, I have Max, who is a medium-sized mutt, and the most laid-back dog I have ever owned. He’s very relaxing to live with, for which I am very grateful.
So Charlie and I have a lot in common. I feel for you. Or, more accurately, my friends and partner feel for you. I am a trial. So is Charlie.
I am just imagining if art imitates life and what would Kate do if Kate and Grendal stumble into a similar situation in the new keep….
I am glad Charlie is doing OK.
Grendel has been chasing the new chickens (one of the fairly recent snippets). Something will happen while he’s trying to get back on Kate’s good side, I bet.
Oh, poor doggie, and dog parents! Injuries and poor health suck. Since there’s most likely going to be another incident, given the doggie, I hope the next is a long ways away, and is as mild as it can be!
Poor guy. gave me a good laugh so thank you!
Charlie, Charlie, Charlie…will you never learn?!! Good thing you’re so cute! 🥰💕💕
Y’all are doggie saints, that’s all I have to say. Skunk over porcupine any day…
Your stress levels have been horrible. May some calm and peace take over.
Ouch. Charlie seems to be like my husband – never a dull moment. Here’s sending him a lot of “no hurt” energy and “no more bad stuff” for this round. *sigh* No matter what they do, though – we love our dogs.
So in Texas parlance he’s all hat, no brains.
There has got to be a character in one of your books based on Charlie 🙂 My little guy likes to be up high and leap off tall things.
That is way too much pet drama just reading it made me exhausted. I’ll keep my two cats. Thank you. Cane toad in Wimberley I think not.!
Does House Andrews write to vent the continuing drama of their lives??? Wow, you guys are amazing and patient. Your furbabies are lucky!
I know it isn’t funny, but it is! Got love dogs. It takes all kinds to keep us on our toes. My mutt (looks like Petey from the Little Rascles) eats everything and I mean everything. His favorite are worm chips (dried worms on the street) and his “sister’s” poop (German Shepherd). One day a in September he was drooling and walking around like he was drunk, but otherwise still eating, so I wasn’t too worried. I am a people nurse so I kind of know what to look for in dogs also. After the 2nd day I decided if he was still the same on the third morning I would call the vet. He woke up fine so I just figured it was something he ate. Guess what it was! My husband was scooping poop in the backyard before mowing and came in and said he saw mushroom stems, but no tops. Hmmm…dog that eats everything must have decided his diet was lacking and had some shrooms! I think he was a bit stoned!
Thank you for the dog stories. I had to put my 15 year old, cancer engulfed baby down. She was a happy girl up till that last month. She started whining and crying and her tumors grew exponentially. She went to do doggie heaven, wrapped in my arms and a great many sobs. She is with her sister now. Hearing about your hilarious doggie exploits brings a much needed chuckle and smile…..so Thank you!, for sharing. Helps me to remember all the crazy good doggie times.
She’s crossed the rainbow bridge & doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m sorry for your loss. I had to put my 15 yr old girl to sleep this summer (stage 4 kidney disease). Now she’s chasing all the squirrels & rabbits her heart can dream of while she waits). That thought helps, but it still hurts. Now I’ve got a 7 month old puppy to drive me crazy…..
To paraphrase ATLA: You will experience many hardships, mostly inflicted on yourself.
We live in the woods. My daughter brings her dog Beau with her when she visits. In her words, “Beau is not at one with nature.” He has been snake bitten and had a round with a skunk. If we had porcupines, I imagine he would have annoyed one of them as well. He and Charlie have lots in common.
He just wanted his own story line, like all the rest:
…” I clamped the first insect hair sticking out of him with my pliers. It was about the size of a thin metal skewer. “Ready?” “Do it.” I ripped the hair out. It was ten inches long….”
Lol, I sympathize with kid 1, dogs like Charlie are difficult to take care of 🤣. Dogs are the best though, don’t know what I’d do without our 2!
I love the stories about your fur family. They are a note of sunshine in a gloomy week.
Poor Charlie 🥰🥰🥰🥰
Ahhh my favorite kind of post (after snippets 😀) – I love love love the doggy stories.
My folks had a food motivated escape artist, only she was a huge Irish Setter. They still tell stories of her even though she passed over thirty years ago. It sounds like this little fella is going to be one of those doggos. They’re the best kind, even if they do frazzle us in the moment. I hope he recovers well, but I’m not sure he’ll learn anything from it!
That first picture of Charlie looks just like I pictured Napoleon (Bug’s dog) looking, although Napoleon seems to have had a mellower personality!
I have lived in Texas for all of my 40 something years and I have never encountered a porcupine*. Y’all live an interesting life! Poor Charlie!!
*To be fair, until recently, I had only seen a single live armadillo. I now go walking in a state park where I see multiple armadillos on a single walk.
I love your animal stories and pictures. Charlie is adorable. I have never seen a porcupine or the results of an attack, so informative too! Thanks for sharing 👍
Glad Charlie is ok. Yeah, go away and you just know there’s going to be an animal emergency at home. One dog got a stick jammed across her jaw. Another chased a skunk and came back, limping, covered in blood, was rushed to vet. Could he have been bitten by rabid skunk? No, he tripped and bit his own tongue. Our many dogs have been large Shepherds, Newfoundlands, Collie, all pretty mellow, with one exception. She was a mini pin/pug cross, known as our 12 pound Rotweiller. She bullied our 110 lb Shepherd. She was attacked (on our property) by a Great Dane that was known to be a killer of small animals. She ran under him, grabbed a very important piece of anatomy, highly valued by the dog. The Dane screamed, ran off and would walk behind the houses across the street whenever he came back to our neighborhood.
This was exactly what I needed to read today. I almost never use the laughing with tears emoji, but for the Great Dane story, several of it would be accurate.
I’ve had two dogs in my lifetime. Ace was a black lab Chesapeake retriever cross. She got into a porcupine twice in two days face and muzzle both times. Our vet did the first batch and we did the second ones a couple at a time with a couple minutes between sessions. That was the last time she came home like that. I like dogs but for me it’s like constantly having a toddler in the house and I just don’t want to deal with it. I’m a cat person and love their independent attitude. They convey attention when they want petting or food and the rest of the time this employee is ignored until needed again. My two have very expressive attitudes and I really enjoy them. Regardless of their quirks, they certainly add comfort and interest to our lives!
Bless is heart. 🤣😂 I hope his recovery is smooth!
Haha, I love the photo you chose: he’s on a flotation device in the middle of the pool! Is that the only way to keep him out of trouble? 🙂 🙂
Aww. Bless his little ridiculous heart.
Maybe it’ll make him a little more cautious…for 48 hours or so. 🙂
There is always that one SPASM dog. Say Prayers And Spend Money
Frenchies! They are a special kind of trouble
Thank you for the tale of Sir Tubbins!
🫣
Oi. I’m so happy I never had a porcupine emergency. I’m lovin’ Charlie, though 😂
Just in case Sir Tubbins plays with the pokey kitties again, and you are the dedicated surgeon, there is a way to make quill removal easier. Quills are hollow, and they are under pressure. If you cut the quill in half, it releases the pressure and makes removal easier.
I apologize. DO NOT cut the quills. Why I didn’t double check something I read on the internet before I recommended this, I couldn’t tell you. A big “never mind” from me.
Hahahahahahaha Best dog story ever! More please.
lol!
I can sort of relate. My Lucy is a 72-pound Akbash mix, but she was fostered with 200-pound Ovcharkas and cats with an inflated sense of their own importance. She never backs down. She would regularly pick fights with my Great Pyrenees, who was very sweet and would usually just shrug and walk away.
Week before last, I adopted a kitty with (naturally) an inflated sense of her own importance. With judicious use of doors and pieces of hotdog they’re now allowed in the same space, as long as I’m there to supervise. And then Sheba kitty made a play for Lucy’s food, which got her banished from the kitchen for now.
It’s going to be an interesting Christmas!
thank you for the adventures/misadventures of charlie tubbins!
Oh poor Charlie!
I don’t think I could pull out those quills. My husband would be on that end while I plied treats and maybe pain meds into the other end.
My 25 pound Boston Terrier thinks he’s a big dog and picks fights with pit bulls and mastiffs at the dog park and doggy daycare if he doesn’t like how they’re playing. He’s missing a piece of his ear due to it. He and Charlie have the same squat dog death wish.
Any time a conversation includes “…only had 3 quills in his face…” you know it’s gonna be a bad day.
Sorry the stress is high. Happy Thanksgiving!
Charlie is clearly the inspiration for Ascanio.
Amazing. It’s like he has 9 lives or someone, maybe a fairy, is looking out for him
Oh, Charlie. You need a Winnie (collie), who even herds the cats back in the house when they sneak out. She’s a bit of a brown noser, but keeps everyone else in line.