Charlie was my first dog.
He was 5 years old when I was born, he died when I was 17. He was 22 years old when he died. I still miss him. He was a saint and my best friend. He was a border collie cross of some kind. He bit a porcupine almost every year(i got really good at pulling quills out of his mouth with pliers). He & I got skunked several times a summer, we went fishing, boating, swimming, hiking together. Rich summer tourists would pay me to dive for items that fell off their boats in the marina. Charlie would wait patiently on the dock for me, standing guard. He pulled me on my sled every winter. Forgave me all my tantrums and rudeness. Walked me to school and walked me back home again. He slept on my bed, kissed my face and loved me no matter what.
Years past his passing he still visits my dreams. He is a kind and good soul and I always listen to what he tells me.