Hi there, I’m Charlie—your soon-to-be best mate, snack enthusiast, and expert in “keep it simple” cuisine.
I’m turning 3 in December (hint, hint: birthday biscuits, not cake—more on that later), and it’s a big deal because last year, I was clinging to life with no hope A Quick Recap of My Tragic (but Now Triumphantly Snack-Filled) Tale: Once, I had a family. Or so I thought. I was their good boy, their snuggle buddy, their best pal. But then, they took me to a field, told me to “Stay,” and walked away. Just like that. No tears. No backward glances. Just me, alone, with my confused puppy eyes and a rumbling belly. I waited. Because dogs are loyal like that. But days passed, and the harsh truth hit me harder than a missed dinner: they weren’t coming back. Cue my survival montage: me, looking like an extra from a disaster movie, scavenging for scraps and wondering why the universe had forsaken me. The cold nights and hunger were rough, but the heartbreak? That stung the most. Who abandons a face like this? (Seriously, look at me.)
Enter the Hero Squad: One day, a kind human spotted me looking like I’d just lost the lead role in Homeward Bound. I didn’t even have the energy to wag my tail, but she didn’t care—she scooped me up anyway. They brought me to their rehab kennels—a.k.a. the doggie Ritz. Here, they didn’t just give me food and shelter; they gave me back my dignity and reminded me what love feels like. Life at the Kennel Ritz (Featuring My Snack Situation): Let’s talk about the real star of the show: my diet. Turns out, being abandoned and starved left me with a tummy that isn’t a fan of anything fancy. Rich foods? Absolute no-go. Dentastix? Nope. Smackos? Forget it. Cheese? Don’t even think about it. Training treats? A hard pass. I think my insides just threw in the towel after all the trauma and decided, “Keep it simple, Charlie.” So, here’s my approved menu:
Bonios – The MVP of my snack list.
Shapes – Stars, bones, whatever shape they come in, I’m in.
Kibble – Plain, simple, and satisfying. Anything natural like pigs’ ears? Too rich. Fancy treats? Straight to a tummyache. Honestly, it’s a blessing in disguise—who needs gourmet when you’ve got Bonios? And don’t worry, I’m not missing out. The amazing humans at the kennels make sure I’m spoiled with approved goodies, even if they do keep trying to sneak me extra veggies. (Not a fan, but I’ll humor them for belly rubs.) Oh, and I have a nightlight because, yes, I’m scared of the dark. But who isn’t? Isn’t having your own lamp the pinnacle of luxury? Speaking of Luxury, I’m Ready for a Forever Home: I’ve healed, I’ve learned some tricks (like “Drop,” which hilariously results in me getting treats), and I’m ready to be someone’s loyal companion. Here’s the deal: * No other pets, please (I like being the center of attention). * No kids under 16 (I enjoy peace, quiet, and snacks without interruption). * Humans who understand that my simple diet is a feature, not a flaw—because I’ve got a sensitive tummy, not a sensitive heart. If you think you can handle my snack quirks, my love of nightlights, and my big, loyal heart.
