Share Your Story: Over The Rainbow Bridge

OVER THE RAINBOW BRIDGE
In Memory of Charlie O’Brien

By Mariah McCann

I remember the day we adopted him. His eyes were so sad; he seemed so bewildered. Yet, as my husband first commented, “He behaves like the perfect house guest.” Now, even months after his death, as I read a poem about rescue dogs, I cannot get beyond the first verse for the tears in my own sad eyes. “He arrived with only the clothes on his back; his toys, his tags, his people all lost to him. Even so, he remembers his manners: He accepts a biscuit so gently”.

When I first met Charlie I had lost two Irish Wolfhounds just months apart. I was a lost soul myself, and I believe Charlie and I rescued each other. I needed a dog to love; he needed to be cherished for the first time in his life. Neither of us ever looked back from that moment on. We created a bond that united us until death. His eyes? They became happy and bright, gleaming with anticipation for what adventure each day would hold. He never minded what odd request I asked of him, just as long as we were doing it together. The rare times we had to be apart for a few hours, when we would see each other again he would light up and the 8-year old inside of me would take over as we ran to each other. We’d do our “happy dance” and all would be right in our world. Even the rain held moments of interest. Charlie, for whatever reason from his past, absolutely refused to use the yard to relieve himself. According to him, there was to be no compromise on this issue. Did not matter how long he had to wait or what type of weather greeted us at the door, he had no intention of using the yard. Off we would have to go in rain, wind, or dark of night. Fate kindly spared him from snow and ice. A friend sent me a large swath of water-proof material in fire engine red, and I fashioned him a rain coat. He even had matching leggings and a cap! One rainy day as I crossed a church parking lot a group of children were off-loading from a bus. They began to wave, cheer, and call out, “Super Dog”! As they came closer to greet him, some asked if he was in the movies.

I have so many funny and touching stories about our times together. The tipsy young men one night who thought I was walking a polar bear; others believed him to be a very large sheep I was passing off as a dog; one neighbor new to the area, when she first spied us in the fog one evening, back-lighted by the lights on Monument Avenue statuary as we crossed the street . . . she thought he was a ghost.

As I write this, my beloved Charlie is gone. He died in January just 2 months shy of his 7th birthday. Osteo sarcoma, a diagnosis made in August, and one that took him 5 months later. I cursed it regularly in the beginning, and cried more tears than I ever thought my old eyes could expel. Thanks to outstanding veterinary care we got him through that time relatively pain free. During those months I learned to live strictly in the moment for both our sakes, and to not show my fears and emotions that might cause distress for Charlie. I became as focused as a bullet in flight when it came to embracing the small details of each of his days. What did the grass smell like? Hey, he was delighted when I rolled around with him on the ground, and entertained to no end at watching me try to get back up again! I made up all sorts of tunes to sing to him about his favorite treats, VanillaWoofers and peanut butter Itty-Bitty Bones. Sometimes we just liked to sit and people watch, or feel the wind on us. Charlie loved it when the wind blew his fur. Mostly, we just took pleasure in the small enjoyments of each day. He loved his walks, checking his “pee-mail”, visits with his favorite dog buddies,Val and Liza, breakfasts at Weezies in Carytown (Eggs Benedict, his personal favorite), and road trips to 3-Dog Bakery to consume Lickity-Splits in mass quantities! He liked to visit the cheese shops, the kitchen store, and anyplace handing out samples. To go out and about with Charlie was like accompanying a rock star. Few people knew my name, but everyone knew Charlie O’Brien.

Charlie, it was often commented upon, was the most gentle and calm creature. As word has spread of his passing, I often find on my door step a little bundle of flowers, a note about Charlie, a little painted picture by the daycare children who loved to see us coming down the sidewalk, and today a lovely photo of Charlie with his adoring fan and beloved friend, Liza the Havanese.

My days are lonely without him. I often feel him by my side in my dreams. I trust he now safely plays at Rainbow Bridge with Cullen, Fiacre, and Drogheda. I don’t expect I will ever have another dog. Charlie would be a very hard act to follow. If I do not, then I have to say God sent me the best for last.

A few days after Charlie died, my friend Peter, and Val his beagle/sighthound-cross, sent me this lovely poem.

Memories

By John Galsworthy

“Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our lives. Yet, if they find warmth therein, who would begrudge them those years that they have so guarded? And whatever they take, be sure they have deserved.”

Charlie O’Brien. He was a great and noble hound, and he is missed by many.