I live with two lazy old men: Harley and Charlie.
Although I freely admit I'm a full-fledged dork, the fact that their names are so similar is purely coincidence. I got Harley as a kitten thirteen years ago. I almost lost him five years ago when his liver shut down, but he cashed in another one of his lives and pulled through.
I never thought that my longest relationship would end up being with this fat, lazy, fur-bellied beast.
Poor Harley has been through a lot with me, from multiple moves to numerous pets sharing his living space. Sometimes he let me know he wasn't thrilled with the changes.
Other times he took it all in stride and even assisted with breaking in the new kids.
Most of the time, though, he was happy just to be with me, and I was happy to be with him. He is afraid of strangers, but a lover with those he knows.
Then eight years ago, when my ex was in Korea, I adopted a beautiful ex-show Australian Shepherd named Charlie.
The photo above is how I first saw him on the rescue website. Turns out Charlie was too timid for the show ring and luckily my Sheltie Layla and I both thought he was absolutely perfect.
Layla and Charlie were best friends for the remainder of her life. Charlie took it as hard as I did when we lost her.
Over the years since, I've learned to really appreciate the time I have left with Charlie. He's thirteen now as well, and while he's an old man he is thankfully in good health.
I know a lot of people boast that their dog is great, but if you know Charlie, you know that in his case, it's not a boast--it's the truth.
I've never known such a sweet, kind, calm, and loving dog. He genuinely is good in every aspect, and he is that way without really even trying.
Charlie is a lover, too.
They might be two lazy old men, but they're my two lazy old men and I love them both dearly. I'm not sure how I got lucky enough to have such terrific boys, and as they get older I know that someday soon I will have to say goodbye. But for the time being, I don't think about that--I just lay down beside them, rub their fuzzy, flabby bellies and be thankful for each day I get to spend with them.