I met Kelci when she was 4 weeks old. I went to her breeder's house and saw 8 black German Shepherd pups covering the green of the yard. The breeder had given me pick of the litter but said, "I already know which one you'll choose."

I sat in the grass in front of the smallest pup. She was so different than the others. Not only was she the runt but also, she had a silver fur collar and was lighter than the her brothers and sisters. I made certain that I spoke to each of the pups, but when I picked her up, looked her in the face, and smelled her puppy breath, I was hers.

"This is the one I want," I said.

The breeder replied, "I know."

I named her Kelci.

A few weeks later, the breeder drove to my apartment to deliver my pup. Kelci was a tiny 6 pounds and scared to death. I took her into my arms, kissed her nose, and told her we were going to have so much fun. Afterall, she had a new sister, Bayleigh to play with.

As I walked the three flights to the apartment I lived in at that time, I clearly hadn't taken my cocker spaniel's feelings into consideration. I thought, this will be great! Who doesn't love a new puppy?!

Bayleigh, that's who.

I walked into my living room all excited and set Kelci in front of Bayleigh. Bayleigh looked at me and said, "What the hell is this thing?! Get it away from me!" Uh-oh. Not a good sign.

But I was determined. We all three played for the rest of the evening. At bedtime, I went through my routine, and put Bayleigh into her crate (Bayleigh + Eating Mum's Books = Bayleigh Sleeps In Crate Until She Could Be Trusted). I fixed another crate for Kelci, filled it with stuffed animals and a clock, tucked her in, and turned off the lights. And exactly three minutes later, Kelci started whining. And whining. And whining. And whining.

And whining.

Okay, what was I going to do now? I KNOW, I thought. I'll put her and Bayleigh together! That is a fantastic idea! So, I put them in the crate together, turned the light off, and waited. All was quiet! This was going to work!

Twenty minutes later, I turned on the light. Kelci was snuggled at Bayleigh's feet, fast asleep. (I think she was smiling even.) Bayleigh was sitting straight up, staring at me with a look that clearly said, "I hate you."

Kelci slept with me from then on.

Moral to the story: Just put the pup in the bed with you. The "I hate you" look is not worth it.

I'll never forget the day that we met. Your breeder walked to the back of her house to the "dog room", opened the door, and out you and your sisters raced. One of them was black and tan like you and the other was a blonde color. I watched the two of them run around the room just shouting, "we're free! Run! Run! Run!" I was so amazed by how much energy they had that I momentarily forgot that there were three of you.

Hang on, I thought. Where is the third.

I looked down and there you sat at my feet, sniffing my toes. Then you gave my big toe a tiny little lick, and looked up at me with a look that plainly said, "Here, I am. Let's go home."

And go home we did.

We had so much fun getting to know each other that day and that evening. By the end of the afternoon, we had named you Charlotte because I picked out a purple collar (which would your color) and Clay (now Clay, Sr.) picked out a teal leash and that was the colors of the Charlotte Hornets NBA team. Hey, we were a basketball family!

It really was one of the best days of my life, meeting you.

And then night came. I was determined that you would be crate trained, and you were determined to keep me awake all night because of it. By 3 a.m., I was ready to send you back. But I didn't, and you became my best friend. I will miss you every single day for the rest of my life. You were just that special.

I want you to know that today, Mom got a new dachshund. Her face reminds me a lot of you at that age even though she's a different color. I also want you to know that she is in no way replacing you. This is just a new chapter for Mom and Dad. Mom (and Dad, even though he won't admit it) needed this little girl. I know you understand. If possible, show her the ropes, okay? (Just be nice and teach her to pee under Clay's chair, not mine.)

Love,
April

As most of you know, I have dogs. And I don't think I go overboard too much talking about my dogs. I mean, seriously, I wouldn't want to read about how crazy they can make me every day, so I know you wouldn't want to either. But every now and then they do things that absolutely crack me up. So, here are a few examples of these things. I hope they make you laugh.

When Bayleigh (the cocker spaniel) gets quiet, I know she's up to something. And usually that something is not good. Her favorite thing is to jump up on the toilet seat, steal the TP from the back of the sink where I try to keep it out of her reach, and shred the roll to pieces. Kelci (the shepherd) usually is the one to give Bayleigh away because she tries to "join in" but marches into the living room with TP hanging out of her mouth. After I take the TP away and give a good scolding, Bayleigh promptly gives Kelci the "I hate you look".

Last week, Bayleigh was out of sight, but I could hear her playing. She would get quiet, then I would hear the thump, thump of her paws. This means she has a toy. At almost 7, she doesn't play as much as she used to, so it does my heart good to hear her playing. The thump, thump sounds were getting closer. All of a sudden, I see her the top of her head, and she is concentrating hard on something in between her paws. Oh no, that means her "toy" is alive and under her paws. Suddenly she moves her paws, a spider dashes for dear life, she pounces, her short tail wagging as fast as it could, spider is back under her paws. When I got her away from the spider, the poor thing had two legs left. I hate spiders, but that poor thing looked just pitiful.

One chilly morning last week, the alarm goes off, I walk to the back door to let the dogs out, Bayleigh dashes out, no Kelci, I walk back to my bedroom and all I see is Kelci's tail sticking out from under the bed. I drag her out and to the back door, open the door, Bayleigh dashes back in, Kelci races after her. Yes, there were cuss words.

I used to have a trash can with a swing top. One night, I ate leftover spaghetti and tossed what I didn't want into the trash. Then, I let the girls in, fed them, and then headed to the couch to watch some TV. I could hear Kelci in the kitchen walking around, then she trots into the living room, stick her face in mine and burps spaghetti. GROSS. I didn't crack up then, but now that story makes me laugh.

Yes, my dogs crack me up.

Charlotte used to like to lay between my knees. I'm not sure why, but that was her favorite spot. If you tried to deny her this spot, she would scratch at your legs until you widened them enough for her to crawl between.

It has now been a little over four months since Charlotte passed. I cried every day for the first week or so. Then I would only cry when I tried to talk about her. Now I would say that I smile wistfully when I think of her.

I realize Charlotte was a dog. But she was my dog. My first dog. I have no husband or boyfriend (that's a whole other post, let me tell you.), and I have no children. So, I put a lot of energy into my animals because as much as they can annoy me at times, they make me happy. They give me comfort.

Bayleigh and I had a rough start. I was guilt-tripped by the pet store employee into buying her, and it was clear from Day 1 that Bayleigh had issues. She was the most nervous dog I've ever met, and she was scared to death of men. Any man, except my dad. I can't tell you how many times that I came home from work, and she had crapped all over the place. (For the record, she doesn't crap in the house anymore. If she did, one of us would not have survived the past 6 and a half years.)

One day, I had a friend take care of her so that I could go to an amusement park for the day. There was a note left for me when I returned. It read, "Your dog is a MONSTER."

The poor thing is afraid of her own shadow.

Yet, despite all of her quirks, I love her.

Since Charlotte's passing, Bayleigh insists on lying right by my side. (Right now, she's actually lying on my feet, smacking her mouth, and sighing with content.) This is not normal for Bayleigh. She likes her space. But almost every day since I lost Charlotte, this dog has been by my side instead of taking her normal place on the opposite end of the couch.

Now, I see the grey starting to show in Bayleigh's fur now. I know she has many years left, but it kind of makes me heavy hearted. Why do such beautiful creatures that have such deep and pure love for us have to leave us so quickly?

I know there's no answer. And I also know I can't imagine my life without a dog in it. So for now, I'll enjoy my Bayleigh-girl warming my feet (in July), and I won't complain (too much) when she eats the toilet paper.

My cocker spaniel, Bayleigh is a very shy and timid dog. The poor thing is afraid of the shower curtain. Don't believe me, come over. I'll show you. It's hilarious. ;o) But she's especially afraid of men. In fact, my dad is the only man she is comfortable around. (I suspect she was mistreated before I got her.)

Whether it's someone to look at the heat pump or the cable guy or the mail man, she steers clear. Instead of barking, she does this little half bark, half growl number that just announces to the world that she is scared out of her mind. (It's really kind of cute.)

And if the stranger comes into the yard, she will go completely out of her way to stay away. What I mean by this is that she stays on the perimeter of the yard next to the fence running to the complete opposite side of the yard from the stranger. Poor dog. (Now, me being the responsible owner will not allow strangers in the yard without me or one of my family members there because, well she's a dog, and you never know about scared animals.)

So, as part of the suck that was last week, my lawnmower died. I can't really complain because it was free and lasted four years. Today, my dad brought the new mower to my house and with him came a friend of his whom we were giving the old mower to for parts.

Bayleigh-girl started her "scared" bark and heads to the fence. Except this time, she circled back to sniff my dad's friend's heels. When he turned to pet her, she took off and started this all over again. My dad said she did this three times before she gave up and headed for her spot under the deck. I wish I were there to see my scared little dog who was so intrigued with this man that she had to sniff his ankles.

Brave, isn't she?

Now, Kelci? She would lick you, then help you carry the TV away. But don't tell any of the people in my neighborhood that, k? I have them all thinking that she will bite on command. (If you lived here, you'd understand!)

I’ve been missing Charlotte a lot lately. I never knew how much I’d miss that silly little dog. In the past few weeks, though, every time I walk into my parents’ house, I look for her just knowing she’s going to greet me with her usual “Here I am, pet me!” bark. But, of course, she's not there.

But rather than give you a long sappy post that will leave me (and possibly you) in tears, I’ll give you a funny one. Well, at least I think it’s funny.

The day that I brought Kelci home, my little German Shepherd was only 6 lbs. She was the runt, and even though I didn’t know it at the time, she was dangerously sick. I was so excited that I had my new pup, I burst into my apartment, anxious to introduce my dogs to one another, and Bayleigh, my cocker spaniel was less than thrilled.

She took the stance that “If I ignore it, it will just go away.” Sorry Bayleigh.

So, when it was time for bed, I put Bayleigh in her crate at the foot of my bed. (Don’t feel bad for her. She prefers it.) Next to my bed I had a nice new crate stuffed full of stuffed animals and a ticking clock. Just for Kelci. So, I snuggled little Kelci into her crate, turn off the lights and wait.

Two minutes and the whining began. I was sure she would eventually settle down.

An hour later, I wasn’t so sure. What was I going to do? I had to work the next day. I needed to sleep. Ah! Solution: PUT THEM IN A CRATE TOGETHER. Excellent idea! Right?!

So, I got Kelci out, put her in the crate with Bayleigh, turned the lights out and……silence! I waited about 20 minutes, turned on the lamp, peeked over the bed and I see Kelci just as happy as can be sleeping at Bayleigh’s feet. Bayleigh was sitting straight up looking at me as if to say, “I really hate you right now.”

So, the solution? Kelci slept with me.

It’s been a little over two weeks since Charlotte left us. I’m doing well, but I miss her terribly.

Tonight, I sat in the floor of my living room with the intention of trying that new gadget Pedi Paws out on Kelci, my German Shepherd. I was set to trim her nails and was studying the gadget closely. Then I looked up, and she simply licked me from lips to nose. (Needless to say, my little experiment was over.) I had to go wash. And this reminded me a Charlotte story. (I’ll try not to get carried away with these, but I make no promises.)

Before she hurt her back, I would let Charlotte sleep with me sometimes. She would cuddle close at first, then head to the foot of the bed for the rest of the night. Most nights, I would forget she was there.

This was the case one night when I had to get up to pee. I woke up and headed to the bathroom. I got back into bed trying to decide if I was awake or still sleepy. At this point, I had forgotten Charlotte was in bed with me.

Not only was she in bed with me, she was sitting at my head. Quietly. I decided I was still sleepy and stretched and yawned big. Charlotte decided this was the perfect opportunity to show me how much she loved me because she licked. Right.on.my.tongue.

I gagged. I coughed. I cussed. A lot. I got up and brushed my teeth and tongue for a long, long time. Then I got back into bed and forgave her. She was just cute like that.

I've posted previously about my dog Charlotte. She was my high school graduation present, and at age 6, she blew two disks in her back. My goal in telling Charlotte's story is to educate people about special needs dogs, and how they can have happy lives too. I'm far from finished telling you Charlotte's story, but today, Charlotte's story came to an end. She was one month away from turning 13.

I love all animals. (Except spiders.) Sometimes I think that I understand animals more than I understand people. For me, Charlotte was my heart and soul of the animal world. I love my other animals, but Charlotte was my first dog. There have been many dark times that when I felt I had no one else, I could lie in the floor with Charlotte, and she would lick my nose as if to say, "It'll be okay, April. Promise."

I'll never forget the day we brought her home. After choosing me as her pet, we drove home with me at the wheel and Charlotte in my mom's lap. We were both so excited. It took eighteen years and quite a few little pets to convince my dad to let us have a dog, and now here she was. And we loved her. When she hurt her back, she attached herself more to my mom than me and when I left home, Charlotte stayed. But she never stopped being my dog.

Today, when I got to my parents' house, Charlotte was in her bed. I knew the moment I saw her that this was good-bye. We've known for a while that this day has been coming, but to see and understand that this was the day was tough to swallow. I got as close as I could to her and I whispered, "It'll be okay, Charlotte. Promise."

I'm not sure that Charlotte was aware of much this morning, but my hope is that she took some comfort in the fact that the two people that loved her the most were with her today. My mom and I brought her into our family with me driving and Charlotte in my mom's lap. Today, we drove to the vet with me driving and Charlotte in my mom's lap. All I could think about on that drive was we had come full circle, and it felt right.

Charlotte, thank you so much for choosing us as your family. For almost 13 years you brought us so much joy. I hope you enjoyed us as much as we enjoyed you. Know that you will be greatly missed and today our hearts are heavy, but we are happy that you are at peace. Rest well, my friend. I love you.

(Two things she loved: raw hides and cheese. She had the raw hide here and was making sure my mom wasn't getting cheese out of the fridge. )

To be a German Shepherd, Kelci can sometimes be incredibly stupid. I love her, but I swear she never learns. Cagney, on the other hand, is the most intelligent animal I have ever come across. It’s spooky sometimes.

Cagney isn’t your everyday friendly bird. In fact there are very few people that she does like. I’m convinced that the only reason she likes me is because she’s figured out that I control her food. (For all of you that are afraid of birds, don’t be. She won’t bite…unless you stick your finger in the cage!) Cagney also has quite the vocabulary. Yes, this includes a few cuss words, but I swear she only learned one of them from me!

So, one of the things that Cagney has learned from me is “Kelci, come here.” And she has figured out that Kelci will obey this command every time. So, what happens almost daily at my house is this: Cagney gets down on one of the lower sections of her cage. She puts her head down all sweet and innocent-like and says, “Kelci, come here.” Sometimes she has to say it twice, but every time, Kelci walks up to the cage, expecting I have no clue what. As soon as Kelci puts her nose to the cage, Cagney pecks the hell out of it. Then heads back up to one of the top perches(sometimes laughing), and Kelci is left there dazed and confused.

I have to admit, this is hilarious to watch. I’ll even say, “Don’t do it, Kel.” But the dog never listens once the command has been given. This is a dog that can open the storm door, turn on the water faucet, and once figured her way out of her crate, but she can’t learn to stay away from that bird. She even is so dumb to walk up and challenge Cagney every now and then. Cagney wins every time. If Cagney ever gets out of her cage while Kelci is in the house, I’m putting my money on Cagney.

My cocker spaniel? Cagney has tried to give her “kisses”. Go figure.

So, this is how my morning went:

First, let me say that it’s a miracle for me to get showered, get dressed and get to work and not run into a wall(ok, sometimes I do). I don't always sleep well so sometimes I admit to being half asleep when I get ready.

This morning, I'm getting ready and hear the rain begin. Dangit, now I have to let the dogs in. So, to the back door I go. Kelci (the shepherd) nearly knocks me down as she's barreling through the door. Bayleigh (the spaniel) is jumping around like crazy. She's just thankful to be in the house. I head to the back of the house to finish getting ready. I'm alone in the bathroom. This means, Kelci is in her hiding place. Behind the bed. She knows that she's going to be in the house and crated. Yep. I'm going to be late for work. I finish getting ready, head to the front of the house to water and feed the birds.

Ok, now I must explain something here. For whatever reason, Cagney's (the parrot) first poop of the day is projectile. I kid you not, that bird can poop a good foot beyond her cage. I have a towel in front of her cage just to catch this first poop. So this morning, I'm walking back from changing her water, and I see she's hunkered down ready to launch. I stop in my tracks. I want to keep my distance here. READY! AIM! FIRE! As usual, the poop hits the towel, I get the towel up, give her the clean water, and go to my other bird. Now I notice that she keeps chuckling to herself. What's so funny? She chuckles again. Whatever, I need to go. I put Bayleigh in her crate, drag Kelci out from her hiding spot and to hers, and I'm on my way. I may not be late afterall. This isn’t too bad. Then, I notice something as I'm getting out of my car at work. I have a trail of bird poop from my knee to my foot on my left leg. I was a good two feet away from that cage! Jeez. Now I realize (or I suspect anyway) what Cagney was chuckling at. Happy Tuesday, Mama. Love, Cagney.

As I sit here on this Saturday night, I can’t help but notice that ALL of my animals are either quiet or sleeping. All of them. This is a rare happening in my house. I’m afraid to move because I know if I do, the calm will be no more. Thing that stinks about that is that I really have to go to the bathroom. I honestly could start a whole separate blog about them, but for now this will do. So, let me introduce you to The Zoo (really didn’t mean to make that rhyme. I swear.).

Neville: Neville is a cinnamon pearl white-face cockatiel and the baby of all of my animals at 2. He’s also the only male in the house. The thing I love about Neville is that he’s probably the sweetest bird I have ever met and he’s in love with my mom. When she comes into the room he whistles and calls and tells us what a “pretty bird” he is. The one thing that I could do without when it comes to Neville is when he mocks the dog toys. When he goes into squeak mode, it’s “squeak, squeak, squeak” for what seems to be an hour at a time.

Kelci: At 4, my black sable German Shepherd is my baby. I’ve had her since she was 7 weeks old. She was only 6 lbs the day I brought her home and sick. I nursed her back to health and now, 59 lbs later, she likes to be by my side ALL THE TIME. Yes, yes, this is cute and all, but give a girl a break. There are some things I need to do without the help of an escort. That said, it amuses me that she’s learned to open the screen door, turn on the water faucet, and un-latch the backyard gate. Sometimes when I talk to her, I half expect her to answer me back. She’s also my walking buddy. We both love it.

Bayleigh: Now, I love my 6 year old tri-color Cocker Spaniel. I really do. However, I will never own another Cocker Spaniel ever again. To those of you who love the breed, I’m sorry. I swear to you she’s ADHD. And while she’s calmed down a lot, she has still made it her life mission to sniff down the entire house every night. I get tired just watching her. My favorite thing about her though is that she gives actual hugs. She’ll come over and rest her head on your shoulder. I know, right?

Cagney: Cagney is my Congo African Grey Parrot. A co-worker made the decision that she could no longer care for Cagney and knew that I loved animals and there ya go. I’m not quite sure how old she is, but my guess is around 10. She has the vocabulary and emotions of a two year old. I really think she only likes me because she doesn’t have a choice. If she had the chance, I know she’d take Kelci’s nose off. And while she’s completely mean, she cracks me up (she just burped). I find myself sometimes watching her instead of the TV. However, there are times that she will scream, and I know she does this just to piss me off.

Charlotte: Charlotte is my dog, but lives with my parents. See previous and future posts on Charlotte. She’s way too special to get just a few lines.

So now you know why I’m amazed that the house is so quiet right now. But I’m afraid I can no longer hold it and must go to the bathroom. So here we go….

Later that day, as my younger brother and I were buying supplies for our new family member, we named her Charlotte. My family was big into basketball and this was a tribute to the old Charlotte Hornets NBA team. Boy, was this exciting! We had a puppy, and for the first week, Charlotte and I both regretted our decisions. To Charlotte, I was that awful woman who kept putting her in that dreadful crate at night. To me, Charlotte was the reason I was losing sleep. But I was determined that crate training would work, and eventually thing got better. She was such an active and happy dog. So eager to please, but with a mischievous streak. I remember one day coming home from work...I opened the front door and found four hours of Charlotte's work. See, we had decided to give her a little bit of freedom, and because of our mistake, Charlotte had a grand time. When I opened the front door, the first thing I saw was my prom shoes...both laying in a chewed up heap not far from the door. Next, I found a pair of my gym socks (where she found them, I couldn't tell you) lying down the hall and starting a path to my bedroom. A couple of stuffed animals later, I found my puppy underneath my bed, and I swear to you she smiled at me. Eventually, I got her trained, and the worst thing we would come home to was her lying on your pillow. The one thing we had a hard time of doing was keeping her from jumping. We knew it wasn't good for her back, but it seemed like the harder we tried, the more she would jump (the breed is a stubborn one as some of you know, I'm sure). We kept her weight down, except for one time for a bit when she was fed french fries everyday at lunch. I'm sure my brother knows nothing about it, right Clay??

Despite our best efforts, Charlotte began to have back troubles. She'd go through these spells, and we'd be on rounds of an anti-inflammatory which worked wonders. And as she grew older, she was increasingly becoming my mom's dog. I lived at home through college, so I saw her everyday and helped with her care, but she attached herself to my mom nonetheless. Still, I knew all major decisions for Charlotte were left on my shoulders.

"Charlotte's paralyzed." My mother's panic-stricken voice over the phone will forever ring through my mind. As I rushed from work to get to the vet's office all I could think was, would this be the day I would have to decide to put my beloved 6-year old dachshund down? I knew that ultimately the decision was mine...

Before I continue further with the most horrible day of Charlotte's life, let me give you a little background. I finally convinced my dad to let me have a dog. It took me 18 years, but I did it. His only requirements: it had to be a small dog. So, after extensive research, we settled on a miniature dachshund, and we went through the ads in the paper. We called, and the breeder said that she had three females left. So, off my mom and I took, driving thirty minutes to pick out my first dog. The last thing I expected was that she would pick me. The breeder opened the door to the "doggie room" and out bound three of the smallest butterballs I have ever seen. Two of them ran right past me as if to say, "eh" and boy were they all over the place. I watched them for a second, then turned my head to my feet and there she sat...sniffing and licking my toes. She then looked up at me as if to say, "well here I am. Aren't you going to pick me up so we can go home?'

I obliged. Picked her up, sniffed her puppy breath and said, "I'll take this one." As we paid, the breeder made it a point to emphasize how none of her dogs had ever had any back problems. Boy, were we relieved of that as we set along our merry way.