I'll Miss You, Charlie... You Were the Best Dog EVER.

My heart is heavy with sadness. Today I lost my best friend. Sure, he shed enough fur in one day to knit a sweater out of and he occasionally got into the kids' food when they'd turn their backs, but otherwise, Charlie was a really GOOD dog. The best I've ever had. And I am deeply sorrowed that I only got to spend a short time with him.

I have a weakness for all things puppy/dog/canine/furry. So, when I came across an ad on KSL for a pug mix that needed to be adopted last summer, I felt compelled to answer the ad. In less than an hour, I had both kids loaded in the car and was on my way to meet Charlie.

The Grantsville Animal shelter is a pretty awful place for dogs. It's in the middle of nowhere, even for Grantsville, and the fact that a dog as decent as Charlie came from that place is nothing short of a miracle. The minute I saw him, I was in love. I let him greet Brayden and Sarah and he was so happy and pleasant I instantly knew I had to bring him home. I felt so happy to have saved this animal from an inevitable euthanasia.

Brian's not a big fan of my puppy obsession, especially after a failed attempt with a dog who had some aggression issues. But after some time, even he started to like Charlie. The kids loved Charlie and played with him all the time. They really liked taking him out in the yard and throwing his ropes and balls to him. I loved having him around and laughing at all of his quirks.
Charlie was such a sweetheart. He loved to love people. He just wanted to be near me, all the time. He was always so happy, he never got upset or frustrated with the kids, no matter how difficult they can be. He was always well-behaved. Even my dad, the biggest anti-dog person I've ever known, had grown attached to Charlie. Charlie came with us camping, on car rides, and he LOVED going to Petco. He had the typical rosebud pug ears, but when he was happy his ears would perk right up and you just knew he was full of joy.

Last night, I didn't think much of it when Charlie started throwing up. I had been cleaning the fridge out and accidentally spilled some spoiled food all over the floor and before I could stop him, he ate a few small pieces. I'm not sure if that's what caused this, but I think it may have, and I instantly figured that was why, and didn't really worry too much. I can't think what else he ate that might've caused it. I let Charlie outside while I cleaned the mess, but when I asked Brayden to let him back in, Charlie didn't come running up to the door like he usually does. He was just laying outside in the dirt and wouldn't come when I called. I finally picked him up and brought him back inside and cleaned the mud off of him. He was extremely lethargic, and threw up a little more, but I assumed he just didn't feel good. I brought him upstairs with me when I went to bed, and he seemed to be feeling a little better, so I fell asleep. Brian woke me at midnight because Charlie had an "accident" where he was laying at the foot of the bed, and I got up and threw the blanket in the wash and moved Charlie to the floor by my side of the bed, onto a towel in case he had more problems. I patted him on the head and rubbed his ears and then went back to sleep.

My alarm went off at 4am to wake me up for work. I turned it off and then called to Charlie to see if he needed to go out. He didn't respond, so I turned on the bedside lamp. He was still laying on the floor by the bed. I called his name again, but again, nothing. I bent down to pet him and to my horror, he was cold and stiff. Charlie, my best dog ever, had passed away. I was heartbroken and grabbed Brian to confirm my awful, horrible discovery. He was definitely dead. I cried and cried. I couldn't even help Brian take him outside. Knowing I had to be at work today, I plowed through the usual morning routine to get ready and left for work.

Work was HARD. It was hard to walk by the pet supply aisle, hard to see the service dog a lady brought into the store, hard to even spend a minute or two without distraction, since my thoughts inevitably went straight back to Charlie. Coming home from work was bad, too. The familiar jingle of his dog tags was replaced with cold silence. I didn't have his greeting when I walked in the door. I was even sad I didn't have any messes to clean up. The house feels so empty now. I tried turning on the TV, but instead of being able to watch Animal Planet, I ended up in tears again, so I turned it off. Even now, as I sit here alone, I just feel so empty, and oh, so very, very lonely.

I will miss you Charlie. You were such a good boy, in fact, you were the best dog I've ever had, and I hope you know I loved you very much. I hope you had a happy, full life with us and I hope you're in a better place now. Say hi to my mom for me, and give her a big sloppy dog kiss. I'll miss you buddy...

Something Smells Funny...

I work with a fairly new guy who's originally from Brazil. He speaks REALLY good English, but there truly are many things "lost in translation" with him. Usually, we get a good laugh from some of the stuff he says, and he'll laugh with us, of course. Monday night, he said the funniest thing I may have ever heard... but first, a little background:

One of my co-workers, Angela, recently came back from maternity leave. Angela used to commute from Logan, and driving through Sardine Canyon can be risky with all the wildlife. Angela apparently has a built-in homing device for wild animals and has turned just about every native Utah species into roadkill. And I'm not making that up - there was a morning she came to work with deer fur embedded in the side of her car from a fatal run-in with Bambi. She still hasn't lived that one down. She also has this horrible, yet hilariously ridiculous story she tells about running over a family of cats. Yes, I said FAMILY. Apparently, the momma cat and the kittens were trying to cross the road, and along came Angela, so of course, kittens went flying everywhere and Angela was horrified and upset. And she has TONS more stories involving things like porcupines, or even one story when she hit herself with her own car and broke her collarbone... We're constantly teasing her about it. So, getting to the point, to welcome her back from maternity leave, we decorated her office with all kinds of crazy stuff that reminds us of her. I found some sweet clipart of a smashed up car and a bunch of different cats and hung it up on her wall for everyone to see the reinactment of the family of cats incident.

So, as we're doing this, one of the other girls and I are talking to my Brazilian co-worker about all these stories about what animals Angela's killed with her car, etc. He's heard some of them before, so he jumps in with, "Yeah, I heard about the time she hit a SKANK."

Silence.

We burst into hysterics. "Do you mean SKUNK?" I asked him. "Because a SKANK is something entirely different."

"Oh, yeah, those two are always confusing me, SKUNK and SKANK," he replies.

And then, it gets even better. Apparently the Brazilian used to work in some cubicle-farm office, so he tells us a story from when he worked there. He said he came into the office one day and something smelled bad, so he said "Man, it smells like a SKANK in here." And apparently everyone overheard... LOL.

I'm still laughing about it...

Evidence of the Ever-Decreasing Intelligence of the Average Person

Retail management brings it's share of surprises, since dealing with the general public is always unpredictable because people are CRAZY. Got a complaint today from a customer who was horrified that the cashier "licked her fingers" to separate the bags (those things stick together somethin' fierce). She then proceeded to rant and rave about how she didn't want to get salmonella from the cashier's saliva and how it can spread all kinds of disease and how next time she'll yell at the top of her lungs in the store if it happens again. She claimed it happened 9 out of 10 times she visited my store and Harmons, yet didn't bother to take down a name and refused to "single anyone out" when I asked her who it was. This is what I deal with on a daily basis...

First of all, CRAZY LADY, salmonella is spread through eating or touching contaiminated FOOD. Not through people's saliva. Bag lickin' cashiers, while really gross and completely unacceptable, are NOT going to give you salmonella unless they rub their hands around in contaminated raw chicken and then you EAT the plastic bag they touched. Allow a wikipedia reference here:

The type of salmonella usually associated with infections in humans is called Non-Typhoidal Salmonella. It is usually contracted by ingesting raw or undercooked eggs, or from sources such as:
- Poultry, pork, and cattle, if the meat is prepared incorrectly or somehow becomes infected with the bacteria.
- Infected eggs and milk, as well as egg products, when not prepared, handled, or refrigerated properly.
- Reptiles such as turtles, lizards, and snakes, as they can carry the bacteria on their skin.
- Pet rodents

And really, do you need to call and complain about something like that? Have some balls and tell the cashier if you are a germaphobe, or call the supervisor over so they can address it. Calling two days later to tell give some vague details about this "potential epidemic" (her words, not mine) isn't going to help anyone solve it.

So, I beg you customers of retail stores everywhere: I cannot help you if you won't tell me who did it. If you care that much, you'll spill. It's not like they would EVER know it was you. AND IF YOU ARE GOING TO COMPLAIN, CHECK YOUR FRIGGIN' FACTS FIRST!