Written by his beloved human companion,
Donna LoBiondo

For anyone who has not yet heard, my beloved Charlie's
heart disease took a turn for the worse on Tuesday morning
and yesterday we were compelled to terminate his life, because he was just too sick to continue. When his ashes return to us we would like to scatter them in Brookdale Park, because this was Charlie's absolute favorite place to be and he could never get enough of it. I am considering doing this as part of a memorial ceremony, and anyone who would like to attend is welcome to do so. I'll let you know the date and time. Anyway, as a tribute to his life, here is some history about Charlie that you may not know.

Charlie was 13 years old and I had him from the age of five or six months. I bought him from a pet store in Fairfield three months before my father died, in January 1996. He was in a cage around the 1995 holidays when I first met him. He looked very sad because as he became a bigger puppy over the months there, store personnel stopped attending to him and he looked scruffy and dirty so no one was buying him. Since I've always had a soft spot for sad male creatures of all species, I thought he was adorable and was immediately attracted to him, and asked to hold him. Since my life was unstable at that time, though, I did not think it wise to buy him. But periodically I went back from November through the beginning of January just to see him and hold him and we got to know each other. Eventually it became a foregone conclusion that he should come home with me no matter what my circumstances and we would figure it all out together. He was a puppy mill dog, prematurely neutered as is typical for the puppy mill industry, but he needed me and I needed him and that was that.

From those humble beginnings, Charlie turned out to be one of the greatest dogs ever, forever sweet and compliant. I recall bringing him to the vet for a urinary tract infection years ago, and the vet who catheterized him returned him to me, asking "Geez, does this dog kiss and wag his tail through EVERYTHING?". Apparently dear Charlie was even a darling through the most undignified and painful of procedures. Last Halloween he even let me dress him up as a bumblebee - little antennae and all - without complaint. Having lived his early life in that cage at the pet store, once I brought him home he was perfectly house-trained in exactly one week, and even as a youngster he developed a way to talk to me when he had to go out or wanted to eat, different grunts meant different things and I learned all of them. While I worked days at Bridgewater State Hospital treating and evaluating rapists and murderers, Charlie stayed with a nice lady in Newton who ran a doggie daycare, and when I picked him up each evening I'd tell him stories about the people I treated that day, what happened in court, all the dumb things my stupid supervisors tried to get me to do, and detailed accounts of every unspeakable crime that came onto my caseload. From this early training, little 13 pound Charlie developed a big, attentive, and intelligent gaze which could convince anyone that he was actually a human pretending to be a dog, and as a bonus this seemed to inspire in him a desire and even a drive to communicate that I've rarely encountered in any other dog.

Charlie was an only dog for about the first seven years of his life. When I brought Mooshu home he briefly sniffed him and then disappeared for about two weeks, rapidly exiting any room where "that new puppy" happened to be. But once Moosh was a bit stronger, strong enough to play and wrestle, Charlie came around and they became buddies. The same thing happened when I brought Moon Pie home two years ago. Even up to his final well day, which was this past Monday, Charlie and Moon Pie had at least one little play session daily. To his credit, he generally wiped the floor with her, even as skinny as he was. My mom loved Charlie too. She got to know him because once I moved back to NJ she took care of him during the day while I worked and when I got my own place she walked him for me. They became pals and he was good company for her. Charlie always had the soul of an old wise person - maybe this was why they got on so well.

I credit Charlie for helping to get me through the deaths of two parents, many many crazy moves from Massachusetts to New Jersey and back and then back again, a couple bad breakups with various assholes before I met Eric, and several job changes. Charlie was my rock and he always took care of me. So if you have a pet that you love, kiss and hug him or her as often as you can. Remember that their lives are short but so rich, and they give so much each day just by their simple undemanding presence. This is how they teach us about true love and true joy.

And if you don't have a pet that you love, GET ONE!!!!

And please keep my little Charlie in your thoughts and prayers. We will always miss him so much.