Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Charlie Brown

Charlie is ten years old. He's a small brown and white mongrel with a cheeky face. He has excellent judgement when it comes to people and he doesn't like drunks.

Until he was a year old he lived with a couple in Aberystwyth. They kept him in the airing cupboard and beat him viciously.

His current owner was invited into their home by the couple to have a bath. When he saw Charlie, he forgot the bath and took him away there and then. Charlie's jaw was broken and he couldn't eat; he had no hair and was so badly beaten that one of his testicles is inside his belly. It was six months before Charlie was able to trust his new owner and even now will not eat until his owner turns his back, so fearful was he of being beaten.

You can see Charlie and his owner most days sitting outside the Quadrant car park in Swansea. They sell the Big Issue.

His owner - no, wait, he doesn't want to be called that - a dog isn't there to be owned - so we'll call him friend - says Charlie is his best friend, the only one in whom he has complete trust and who has unconditional love for him. He guards him, waking him if he's asleep and danger, as recognised well by Charlie, approaches.

Every morning Charlie leads his friend to the local chemist where they have breakfast ready for Charlie. Sometimes it's chicken; sometimes it's beef.

His friend is given so many tins of dog food a day, by passers-by who think his dog is going hungry - he is wiry but not skinny - that he is able to feed 8 or 9 other dogs around the city.

The last few years Charlie and his friend have gone to Ireland for a period each side of Guy Fawkes night. As it's not celebrated in Ireland, Charlie isn't constantly frightened by the barrage of fireworks that are set off around this time.

They were in Zac's Place last night, Charlie comfortably snuggled in a corner, only moving occasionally to check the whereabouts of his friend. Oh, yes, Charlie's friend is called Simon. I didn't think to ask that until just before we parted. I guess I'm no better than the passers-by who give Simon dog food but not a friendly word. I've got a lot to learn.

For non-Brits
The Big Issue is sold by the homeless. They have to buy copies at, I think, half the cover price, and then sell it on. 'Working not begging.' Part of the thinking behind the Big Issue is to give the disadvantaged a source of income and the self-esteem that comes with earning money, to put them back on the road to employment and/or further education. The vendors have to follow a strict behavioural code.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

A sad story, but it makes my heart feel good for how it turned out.

Liz Hinds said...

Yes, Simon and Charlie are lucky to have found each other.

Joy Des Jardins said...

Oh Liz, what a sad....but beautiful story. What a blessing for both Charlie and Simon that they found each other. I wish we heard more stories like this one...everyone should have a happy ending. Thanks Liz.

Liz Hinds said...

You're right, Joy. Simon was scruffy (and smelly!) and probably slightly drunk but to see his love for that little dog was wonderful.

Clare said...

That's a lovely story. I should buy the Big Issue more often, and the dog person in me gravitates more towards those with dogs. Must make an effort.

Oh and I clicked on the link on PT's blog that you mentioned. No, not about chocolate at all....