Prune picker

Prune picker is a Depression Era term for a native Californian. It was not a complement. In the thirties when I was a boy there were times that I was the only prune picker in a group. Everyone else had been born somewhere else.

My posts are placed down the left column. Personal data is placed in the right column along with a list of blogs I check and a listing of my past posts.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

We lost Charlie!


Charlie lived next door and was one of my best friends. He would come over most every day to visit. You knew it when Charlie scratched on the door. Often he would see my car coming home from his yard. By the time I got to the garage door he would be there. He would do his best to act like a very happy puppy. He would sort of jump and wag his rear end. Charlie was 15. That is very old for a lab,

When I was told last night that Charlie was dead my eyes got wet. I said to myself "You can not cry over a dog dying." I was wrong.  I dried my eyes and cried later. Charlie was always so glad to see me. I know that he loved me. I was very fond of him.  A couple of weeks ago he came over. I went over the memory of that visit. His arthritis was so bad that the pain made him stop and rest every 20 steps or so. He had lost weight and looked ready for Dog Heaven. I will miss him!






2 comments:

  1. Oh Papa, I am so sorry. That breaks my heart... for both you and the Doggy. Animals are so sweet and special. Its very hard to lose them.

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  2. Thanks Annie. Charlie was special to all of us.

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