My family lost Carl Dog to a massive infection, probably caused by cancer on August 10, 2015. He was born May 24, 1999. We're not exactly sure of the date, but we chose that date because it's also my daughter's birth date. He was found as a new born puppy under a shrub in Roosevelt Park in Campbell. A loving person found him, took him in to take care of him, and placed an ad in the paper, "Free Dog to good home." I had no idea what this dog was capable of or what he was about to teach my family. I offered a good home, for the dog. The dog made us a good home!
Although we already had Dusty Dog, I felt it wasn't fair to leave her home alone so much, as both kids were in school, and my wife and I both worked crazy hours. So I went to see him, and was strictly thinking of finding Dusty a friend. As soon as I met him, he loved me. And I loved him.
Carlin Douglas came to live with us that day, and quickly became part of our family. He and Dusty became fast friends and were inseperable. We named him after George Carlin, and just called him Carl for short. Because who would name a dog George?? That's ridiculous.
His name and personality quickly fit together like an acorn in a chipmunk's mouth. He developed many nicknames such as, Carlos, Carl, Carl from Campbell, Car-Hole (because he really was an asshole sometimes!) Cizzarl Dizzog, Dammit Carl, and the most used CARLDOG. It was almost impossible to just call him Carl.
A few years later, my family found ourselves in a huge predicament. We had to move. Not going in to deatils, its not important. The years had been hard on Ole Crusty Rusty Dusty dog, she had arthritis and could barely stand up on her own. Carlin would actually help her get up sometimes. So it was decided that we would leave our beloved neighbors, and start again at our new home. Without pets. Typing this story reminds me of the pain I felt having to put Ole Dusty Dog down, and we put Carlin up for adoption.
The kids were NOT OK with this decision, and kept asking what happened to Carl. After what seemed like a million phone calls, I finally got someone at the dog pound to breech protocol and she actually told me Carl was adopted by a family with a farm in Brookfield. The kids were OK with that story, and we continued life as a family, adapting to our new home and life without pets. Things progressed as expected for a few months, and we became accustomed to our new surroundings.
One day while I was working on the race car, I can remember what clothes I was wearing! My wife calls me.
"Hey Hon, I just got a phone call from one of our old neighbors. Do you remember Mike?"
"Yeah, why?"
"He just called me and said that Carl is on our old back porch."
"Wait. WHAT?"
"Yes, Carl Dog is on our old back porch. What should I do?"
"You go see if it really is Carl. If it is, you bring his ass home! If he wants to be with us THAT bad, well then he will be!"
"OK. I'll let you know."
"Hon? Carl is here. He's scared, looks like shit, but he's here. He's really here.! It's really Carl Dog!"
"Bring his orange ass home, I'll be there in a few."
The damn dog chewed through his leash to get free. It was POURING down rain that whole weekend. Tornado warnings in all 3 counties. 14 miles, and two major highways to get past. He did it. He wanted to be with us THAT bad!
Carl Dog decided he wanted US as his family. My wife brought him home. HOME. He chose us, he knew where his home was.
The next day, I was on duty at the fire station, We felt it wasn't good to leave him in a new place, after all he just went through. So Carl worked a shift at the fire station. Gave him a bath behind the fire truck. This is when I noticed the pads on his feet were worn from walking on concrete. He had worn his nails down to the point that a few of them were bleeding. He was cold, wet, tired, sore, scared, and miserable. And happy. He slept so hard that day, he snored.
His tail was wagging, because he was with me. He chose us to be his family. I was happy to be with him.
Hanging on the wall in our home, I have his leash from Brookfield and a story. I won't point it out, and its not in an obvious location. But if you ask, I will sure as hell tell you his story!
"Don't Quit"
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging on seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high
And you want to smile but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit--
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a person turns about
When they might have won, had they stuck it out.
Don't give up though the pace seems slow---
You might succed with another blow.
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor's cup;
And he learned too late whe the night came down
How close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out----
Its pressing on past fear and doubt--
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit:
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit!!!
During the following months, Cizzarl got accustomed to our new house, and the changes that had happened while he was away. He was an ass, and would escape every chance he got. He absolutely KNEW how to open the screen door on the deck! Unless you were watching! Then all of a sudden he got "stupid." He would play "deaf", he would play "blind." If it benefitted him.
We didn't know where he went when he escaped for a while. We would drive around looking for him. Jerri, our old neighbor called my wife one day. Carl is sitting on your old back porch howling. I think he's looking for Dusty.
Something as simple as peeing on a phone pole made him so happy. He chose us as a family, and he went through hell to be with us.
Lessons learned from an animal that didn't judge. An animal that showed us what unconditional love was. An animal that was happy to be with his family. An animal that was part of our family.
Nose in the wind my friend, My Carl Dog.
