Charlie
Charlie
2011 — 2026
Best friend. Sock thief. Professional sunbather.
Charlie came home in the summer of 2011 and immediately acted like he owned the place.
He hated thunderstorms and loved scrambled eggs.
Summer, most years
His people
Wherever we were, Charlie wanted to be exactly in the middle of it.
The small things
- He slept by the back door.
- Barked at delivery trucks.
- Somehow knew when someone was sad.
CharlieSummer 20190:00
What we'll remember
Charlie never once walked into a room quietly. He arrived. Tail first, then the rest of him, then a full lap of everyone present to make sure nobody had been missed. He greeted the mail carrier like a long-lost brother and the vacuum like a sworn enemy, and he was right about both.
He knew the sound of the cheese drawer from two rooms away. He knew when a car in the driveway was ours. And somehow, on the hard days, he knew to skip the greeting and just lean his whole weight against your leg until it passed.
Fifteen summers. We would have taken fifty. The house is quieter now, and we keep leaving the back door open a little longer than we need to.
— Sam, Jess & the kids
