Over 10 years ago, I met a girl who changed my life. We ended up going on some dates, got married, and now have 2 children together. But before all that happened, she had a dog she’d adopted just a few months earlier – a 10-month-old Beagle she got from the Humane Society. When I mentioned her on the blog, I called her Financial Pup. Her real name was Charlotte, but we always called her Mer or Murray – a little inside joke between my wife and me that doesn’t really make sense to anyone but us.
I was never a dog person before meeting my wife and her dog. My family didn’t have pets when I was growing up and while I liked dogs, I never really felt that attached to them. But Charlotte completely changed all that. For the next 12 years, Charlotte was my dog – and I became a dog person.
I often joke that Charlotte wasn’t really my dog because my wife got her before we met. I said I was the stepdad and that I shared no blood with her. But over the next 12 wonderful years, she undoubtedly became my dog, bringing so much joy to me and my family.
Unfortunately, Charlotte passed away this weekend. It was sudden and unexpected. She got sick over the weekend and her condition deteriorated fast. I knew she was slowing down as she aged, but I always thought she’d have more time with us. She’s always been a resilient dog and whenever she did get sick, she always bounced back quickly. We even bought a new bag of dog food for her the day before she passed because her food was running low. The thought that this weekend with her might be the last hadn’t occurred to me until I saw her condition on her last night.
Charlotte was 13 years old and lived a long good life. She passed away at home, in bed with me and my wife – the same bed that she slept in every night. She didn’t cry or appear to be in pain. She looked like she was sleeping in the end, on her side with her legs stretched out, in the same sleeping position she slept in when she felt most comfortable and secure. I take comfort in knowing that she passed comfortably being held by the two people who loved her most.
As a dog, Charlotte wasn’t perfect. She was house-trained but still seemed to pee in the house regularly. Every couch and rug we’ve ever had has been peed on by Charlotte at least once.
When she was younger, she was a flight risk. She ran out the door multiple times and had to be chased down. I remember one time when we were moving from an apartment and she slipped out the door while we were moving a couch. I had to drop the couch, run out the door after her, and wave a bag of Sour Patch Kids I happened to have in my pocket to get her to stop and come back to me. Thankfully, as she got older, she stopped running away and we could even let her outside with no leash.
She was heavily food-motivated and stole food when she could. Multiple friends of mine have had sandwiches snatched out of their hands by her. Living with Charlotte meant my wife and I got used to keeping an eye on our food when we got up from the table (and saying Charlotte in a long drawn-out voice so she would know we were watching our food). We always had to push our chairs in so she wouldn’t jump on the table and steal food. My oldest son even got used to this, guarding his food so that Charlotte wouldn’t steal it from him.
But despite all these issues, she was a good dog. You just had to know how she worked. I would tell people she was a dog of routine. Every morning, you had to take her out right away. When you came home, you had to take her out immediately also. Even if she just went out, you had to let her out again if you left the house or else you risked her doing a revenge pee somewhere (on the ground if you were lucky, on a rug if you were unlucky, and on a couch if you were really unlucky).
She ate breakfast first thing in the morning and had dinner at 5 pm or so every day. And she’d let you know when it was time to eat. She’d lift her bowl and bang it around if you didn’t feed her. I don’t think Charlotte ever missed a meal in her life.
Charlotte knew how to be comfortable too. She somehow always put herself in the most comfortable position in any room. Take any pile of blankets or whatever was the softest, most comfortable thing in the room, and Charlotte would eventually get herself on there and curl up. The more soft things she could be on top of, the better.
She was around for all of our most important life events. She moved with us multiple times, from the first apartment my wife and I lived in together, to the next apartment, to the next one after that, to our first house, to the house that we live in now. She sniffed our children’s heads when we brought them back home from the hospital. She came with us on every camping trip. She visited multiple state high points with us, making her, for a moment at least, the highest pup in whatever state we were in.
On the financial side, I always say that Charlotte made me money. In 2015, I heard about this app called Rover where you could set up a profile and watch people’s dogs – sort of like an Airbnb for dogs. I decided to sign up and create a listing, reasoning that this was a perfect side hustle for me. I already had Charlotte, so watching a second dog wouldn’t change anything. I already had to walk her, feed her, and take care of her, after all. So watching a second dog would, in a sense, allow me to get paid for the dog care tasks I was already doing.
Charlotte became the perfect ambassador for me when it came to my Rover business. She got along well with other dogs. And I think people were more comfortable with having me watch their dog since they knew I already had a dog. Over the 10 years I’ve watched dogs on Rover, I’ve made over $27,000. I don’t think that would happen without Charlotte – so while other dogs might cost money, I think Charlotte made me money. She was a side hustler, just like me.
My kids are taking it well. The youngest is too young to know what happened and won’t remember Charlotte. She’ll be the dog in all of his baby pictures. My oldest will remember Charlotte, but she’ll be a distant memory – a dog that was once part of our family long ago.
It still hurts as I write this. I still cry when I come home and don’t see her at the door. Charlotte was my first pet, so the pain is doubly hard. But I know this pain will subside. Eventually, she’ll be a memory. A beautiful memory of my first dog.
Goodbye Char. You will be missed. I’m so happy you were a part of our lives.
Oh, Kevin! So sorry to hear about Charlotte!
I remember her from your posts about your Rover/Wag adventures.
Thank you for sharing your story of her–know it’s hard.
Sending our thoughts and prayers your way!
I’m so sorry about Charlotte – it’s so hard when our pets leave us. Sounds like she had a wonderful home and an adventurous life. My sympathy to you and your family.
I’m sorry for your loss. It sounds like Charlotte had a wonderful life with you. Rest in peace sweet pup.
One of our two dogs crossed over to the rainbow bridge last November and we have a 13-year old rescue that has grown up with my daughter. Like your dear Charlotte, our Bobo is slowing down and we’re keenly aware that his days are numbered. You made Charlotte come back alive for the thousands of readers of this blog. Many hugs to you and your family now and in the days to come.
Thank you for sharing Charlotte’s story with us. My sympathy and condolences for you and your family. Losing a pet is always difficult and painful.
A lovely tribute; my eyes teared up with I read it. We have had a number of dogs, almost always giant breeds like Irish wolfhounds and Great Danes. One of my wolfhounds ended up being my heart dog. He lived to 11, almost double the usual lifespan, and although he has been gone five years now I still think about him a lot. He was a good boy who reminded me of that cartoon where a dog is at the gates of heaven and St. Peter asks him what his name is. “Good boy!” the dog replies. That is what my Alistair was, a good boy. You were lucky to have a good girl, too.
So Sorry for your loss. How did you make $27,000 on Rover? That’s quite an accomplishment.
Sorry for your loss, Kevin! What a nice pup. Hang in there!
I’m very sorry for your loss. May her memory be a blessing.
It’s time like these when we fully understand the saying, “all dogs go to heaven” right? Actually, all our pets regardless of species. My condolences, it’s difficult. Thank you for sharing your story and telling us about Charlotte and the impact she made on your family:)
I’m so sorry for you and your family. Charlotte was lucky to be in your family. I miss my beloved corgi Kelly every day. Hugs to you!
This brought tears to my eyes! Like you, “my” dog was my partner’s dog that I inherited. He’s now 14 and the traits you used to describe Charlotte make me think he’s a lot like her (especially “revenge pee” LOL). He’s made me a dog person who also petsits now also. You always hope they’ll be around forever but…we know it’s not true, but I do believe all dogs go to heaven, as the movie once said. So sorry for your loss 🙁
What a moving piece – you were lucky to have her, and she you.
And you family.