Love to the Rescue
I’ve mentioned my mother passed in November 2023, and as the matriarch of our family, we miss her terribly. The last two years of her life in which she was afflicted with dementia were abysmal for her and painful to watch. Still, through all this misery, I wanted to share the story of her little dog Charley, whom she adopted from the Fremont County Animal Shelter in Colorado.
Mom, Charley and my daughter
Rewind several years back to 2012, I was at the start of an empty nest and under contract to write more books for my publisher when my adult daughter called, saying, “Guess what, Mom, I got Grandma a dog!” My mother had been wanting a small dog to keep her company, and although I knew she would love it, I knew the truth. My daughter had gotten ME a dog.
Charley was a rescue dog. Part cockapoo, part poodle, the veterinarian estimated he was four to five years old. To say he was the cutest thing ever was an understatement. Further, he was frisky, loved to walk and soon he was well acquainted with residents in both my mother’s and my neighborhood.
The more time I spent with Charley, I wondered who would give up such a loving animal, and when I saw his affinity for my mother, I thought his previous owner must have passed and guessed the heirs couldn’t (or wouldn’t) care for him.
Who would have known their loss would be our family’s gain?
Charley had quite a great life with my mom. She spoiled him to no end; my brother, sister and I and our kids walked him due to Mom’s neuropathy. Charley was also an escape artist, particularly when he discovered the kids close to Mom’s complex would give him treats if he showed up. That led to a chip and a collar with Mom’s phone number.
She hired a dog walker, Gillian, who added another blessing to our lives. She walked Charley twice a day and when Mom made the decision to no longer drive, Gillian added grocery shopping and errands to the list.
After a walk in the park enjoying the shade
One of my greatest concerns was when my husband wanted to retire and relocate to New Mexico. I asked Mom to come with us. She turned me down saying she was comfortable in her home. When I said you’re making me choose between my husband and my mother, she unselfishly said, “You choose your husband.”
My sister lives in the Denver area and she would now be the closest relative to our mom. Gillian was also next door and we had her on speed dial. You have no idea how relieved I was when my sister said to me, “You’re not the only one who can handle this.” (She proved she was up to the task and more.)
Charley & me grabbing a catnap 🙂
Meanwhile, I was traveling back and forth to Colorado Springs from Las Cruces. Our dad had passed, and Mom, a retired registered nurse and now in her late eighties, expected her time on earth was limited. She adored her little dog and worried what would happen to him when she died. I should have recognized her worsening dementia when she suggested we have Charley cremated and buried alongside her. Too shocked to reply, all I could think of was but what if he’s not ready to go?
Around this time, Mom got sick and we almost lost her. We made the difficult decision to move her north into assisted living. It only made sense as my brother and I lived out of state. In Denver, she had a daughter and her beau, four grandchildren, their spouses and six grandchildren nearby. Mom wasn’t happy but seemed to acquiesce when we promised Charley could go with her.
Charley at his doggie door.
Mom resided in assisted living, followed by memory care for two years. In this facility, Charley’s walks were shortened, Mom lost track of his schedule and began overfeeding him. This created an additional problem as the other residents loved slipping him treats as well. Charley became sick and finally the administrator told my sister he had to leave.
We worried Mom would be despondent at his removal, but by this time dementia had a stranglehold and she seemed to forget him. She entered hospice, and nearing the end, my sister asked if Charley could be with her. The administrator agreed and this little dog lay by my mother’s side through it all. When Mom died, he snapped at anyone who tried to take him away. My sister eventually had to pick him up to take him home.
As Charley was now almost sixteen years old and considerably overweight, we assumed he would soon follow in our mother’s footsteps. My sister, however, got to work. With the generosity of our brother and his wife who set up a Charley Scholarship Fund, he was put on a special diet, received much needed and very expensive dental care, and, of course, exercise.
Charley gave my mother so much company and joy we feel he deserves every happiness. It goes without saying the rest of the family’s pretty crazy about him, too. These days he appears to be thriving and seems to have been granted a new lease on life. He’s enjoying walks and even running! I guess that happens when love comes to the rescue.
Happy Mother’s Day.
~ Donnell
This is such a loving tribute to your mother and Charley. I’m so glad Charley was able to stay with your mom in assisted living. When I visit assisted living with my therapy dog, the residents often are despondent because they had to leave a beloved pet behind. And now Charley is living the best life with your family.
Thanks, Brooke. He is. Thank you for all you do with your therapy dog xoxo