Today Charlie and I were invited to his friend's house for Thanksgiving dinner.
It was a quiet affair with a nicely balanced guest list made up of four people and three poodles: Mozart, Zeus and Charlie.

The people didn't know that Charlie had recently undergone Auricular Testing which led to a some very strict dietary rules. For instance, one of the few proteins Charlie can have right now is Turkey. So his meals are typically made up of turkey, sweet potatoes and a bunch of vitamins. You could say that Charlie enjoys a Thanksgiving Dinner every day of the year and you'd be right!

While I prepare his meals he sits in the kitchen, watching me, full of anticipation.

Each meal is consumed as though it is his first - and his last.

And when it's all gone he rolls around the floor in a state of pure ecstasy.

Charlie hopes you enjoy your dinner as much as he does and are thankful for all that comes your way.

This is me with Charlie, my mentor, constant companion + creative muse from Jan. 2001 - Jun. 24, 2017.  

Photography by Piotr Organa

Janet told me years ago that she believed that each of us has at least one book inside of us. Hmm. I thought she was nuts. Then a little dog came into my life and changed a lot of my beliefs + priorities. Now I agree. But I'm not a writer. Besides, in the intervening years I've read a number of books and short stories about people and their special relationship with their dogs. When I saw the movie "My dog skip" I almost cried because I now have a better understanding of what it's like for a dog to lose a master or mistress. In the last four years I've learned a lot about dogs but I still know very little. I now understand the expression "dogs leave footprints on your heart". I'm just not sure how they get in there, or why their very lives are so much shorter than ours. My dog and those I've met are wonderful sentient beings that have opened my heart and mind in ways that people never have. Anne told me that our relations with dogs are more genuine because people and dogs have very open relationship anchored in this moment, free of the politics and all the other stuff that encumbers human relationships.

I remember when we were told Charlie had skeletal necrosis I was speechless. It took weeks to put the news into context: realizing that his already short life would be cut shorter.

And that’s when I started listening – and not worrying about Charlie because Charlie began teaching me about life. He began with one of the most basic lessons - one that most of us understand philosophically but struggle to apply.

• To live in the moment.
• To not worry about what might be.
• To enjoy and appreciate what we have.

Charlie doesn't know how long he has and neither do I.

So that’s the ‘beginning’.

My goal is to write a ‘lesson’ a week and then put them all into a book, or this blog, one week at a time.