Thanksgiving this year was notably different from previous years. One change that we all enjoyed was brisket instead of turkey. Hot, juicy, fork tender brisket, and with a flight of different BBQ sauces. What’s not to love about that?
Less pleasant was the following morning when I took Charlie to the vet for some scheduled dental work.
For those of you who don’t know about Charlie: I adopted him three years ago. He was brought up from Texas — Rolling Hills, as I recall — by a local rescue group called Mile High Lab Mission. While in Texas he’d been attacked by another dog and his face was torn up. He very nearly lost his left eye and part of his right ear.
However, by the time I picked him up during that Thanksgiving week, 2022, he was in reasonably good shape; the Texas vets had patched him up. He looked pretty rough because his coat hadn’t grown back in on his face, but he was and continues to be the sweetest dog that’s ever loved me.

To continue, a few hours after I dropped him off Friday morning for his dental work, the vet called. Charlie was fine, he assured me, while explaining in detail what he’d done. And by the way, the x-ray of his head revealed four shotgun pellets. Someone in Texas had shot him!
The vet, for whom I have the utmost respect, assured me the pellets are inert and pose no danger, don’t need to be removed, etc. He speculated maybe Charlie had gotten into somebody’s chickens or something like that.
By the time the call ended, my internal Mama Bear was in full roar. It was a bizarre combination of shock and rage that somebody had shot my dog (three years ago), love and protectiveness for my wounded dog (now safe and healthy), etc. At one point the name Kristi Noem crossed my mind, as though she’d been in Texas when Charlie was shot. I realize dogs, especially strays, may be thought of differently in rural areas, but still … somebody had shot my dog!!
It took a day or so for Mama Bear to disappear, and Charlie’s here with me, as loving as ever and recovering nicely from his oral surgery. I still haven’t completely processed my thoughts about his having been shot, beyond the odd feeling that I love him even more than before, as if that were possible. He has the same visible scars, and some previously unknown invisible ones, but he’s here, safe and happy, just as he has been since Thanksgiving 2022. And I’ll continue to celebrate his “homecoming” every Thanksgiving.

Note: In Charlie’s post op instructions: “4. Make sure your pet has a nice, quiet place to recover.” I think we have that covered (header image).

so sweet –
He’s the best
It’s shocking that someone would shoot a dog but wonderful that he fell into good hands–yours.
Aww thanks.
Oh, Colorado ! – I can feel your rage, albeit one sprung from some years back. And I get it !! – I really get it. Were I to discover that someone had hurt Boodie in the 11 months of his life pre-MR, I think I’d go looking with a machete, ancient and all as I am.
But they’re all correct: how lucky is Charlie to’ve been homed by you !
(And stop it with those treats, willya ? [grin])
Weird, isn’t it … or maybe not … that something Charlie survived before I’d ever heard of him should upset me so much. (Yes, a machete would be just the ticket.) I do wonder about his history, though, given that he’s perfectly house trained and sits on command like a soldier. Yet he was picked up as a stray, with no identification, and apparently no one looking for him.
The stories one reads online about people simply driving somewhere and letting the dog out of the car then driving away … it makes the blood boil.
But that there are ‘excuses-for-humans’ who do things like shooting them – nothing could possibly be too horrible to do to such untermenschen. Nothing.
Like Noem, who shot and killed her pup for not doing what she hadn’t trained it to do!!