My Story – Charles

Hi, I’m Charles and I belong to Dave and Amy at least that’s what I lead them to believe. My real name is Chesabrit’s Charles in Charge, but you can call me Charles. Why Charles and not Charlie or Chuck? Well just take a good look at me and spent a bit of time with me and you’ll find that I really am regal enough to be a Charles. Although my mom and dad call me Chuck in private.

I’m an American (1992) and Canadian (1997) Show Champion with multiple group placements in both countries. I’ve also got almost 60 Best of Breed wins during my show career. My early life was spent as a show dog. This was a lot of fun and a lot of hard work. Week after week on the road eating a lot of dog treats and having people clap, ok, it wasn’t that bad!

In 1993 I rose as high as number five in the country ( US ). Then my mom and dad missed me and decided to have me stay home and just be Chuck. It was a pretty great choice as I had duties to perform there. Simple things like being the protector dog are my daily chores now. Well, that and watching over my girls, Jessie, Sam and now Abby.

In 1994 I was the fifth ranked Brittany in Canada . This was a great honor but all the speaking engagements, the press hounding me and those poodles seeking autographs grew tiresome. I thought it would never end.

While I was showing, I traveled a whole bunch. Some highlights of my trips included Winnipeg Canada , I really love Canada because it means I get to play in the lake on the way home (check out the picture to the left). On another trip to Canada I got to go to Skydome in Toronto . It was a blast. I even saw Jack Morris’ locker (it was a long time ago).

My trips in the states have been numerous. I’ve been to Tennessee , Illinois , Michigan , North Dakota (overrated btw), Wisconsin , Iowa (very glamorous), Missouri , Arkansas and I’m sure there are some others that I’m missing.

After my time on the road I pretty much retired from showing. I still go now and then just to show those young dogs (I’m fourteen and a half now after all) how all of us old guys did it back in the day.

At home my responsibilities are pretty varied. My biggest responsibility is defending the top dog at our house. Now I’m not the top dog (although I could be if I wanted ‘cuz I’m a tough old coot), but I’m kind of the sergeant at arms. When Maggie was here I was her right paw guy that kept everyone else in line. After Maggie passed away the other dogs were looking to me to be the top dog. I wanted none of that. Fortunately Jessie won the election to be the ruling brown dog of the house and I could go back to my regular duties or being the tough dog.

A couple years back when Sam started going down to training I started to go and run and workout as well. I got back to being that buff show dog that I once was. Working out at the farm and chasing birds really has been great. Sam’s trainer says that I probably missed my calling because I’m so into running for birds. I guess I have a certain fire and intensity that he likes, even today. Well, all I know is that I have a blast down there and that there are least a couple of really cute babes that like to flirt with me, does life get any better than that?.

I guess the hunting stuff is in my family tree, my dad Rambo was a “Master Hunter” after all. Yup, that’s right, my dad (remember my formal Charles name) was named Rambo. He was a pretty cool dog and I got to meet him a couple of times. We looked almost exactly alike, it was weird.

The rest of my family was spread around quite a bit. My mom passed away when I was two or three and I had 12 brothers and sisters scattered all over the place. I did get to reunite with my sister Abby. We were both about 12 at the time. It was the strangest thing, we looked like photo negatives, she had the same wrestling moves as me and she talked just like I did. Maybe there is something to the genetics thingy.

These days I’m just taking it easy. Hey, when you’re almost fourteen, you have to stop and smell the… ok, never mind. I spend five to six nights a week during the spring, summer and fall down at the farm running and finding birds. This fall (2004) I even got to go pheasant hunting and found me a giant pheasant (they look giant compared to the quail at the farm). Talk about fun that makes an old man’s heart pitter patter a bit.

If you’re looking for me today, you’ll generally find me somewhere with my mom. She seems to get into a lot of trouble and needs me to bail her out. Oh well, humans, can’t live with them, and can’t sleep without them!

We also have a new addition to the house, puppy Abby. I’m quite busy keeping that little dog in line. She rarely sleeps, but always leads with her teeth. Man am I tired of getting bit in the butt.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my webpage and will stop back soon to find out what my latest adventures are.


Seeya later!

 
Charles at the farm October of 2005

Owners Note (by Dave 3/18/2006):It is with a very heavy heart that I write about the passing of  “Charles”, AM/CAN CH Chesabrit’s Charles in Charge.

Charles passed peacefully early this morning after becoming very ill late last night.  Charles was a month short of his 16th birthday.

While several of you probably saw Charles in the show ring where he was a wonderful and successful competitor, few but his closest friends got to see him at home where he truly excelled.

Charles was an excellent breed representative.  He had the ability to charm almost anyone that came to the house to “see what Brittanys were like” before getting one from rescue or from a breeder.   Most left the house wanting a “dog just like him”.

We found out late in life that Charles had some talent in the field as well.  We hunted with him each fall and he spent many hours at the trainers having the time of his life chasing birds and flirting with all the females (human and canine) there.  Our trainer loved his attitude and the way he attacked the field and only wished that we could have started working with him before he was mostly deaf and 10 years old.

On his 15th birthday we took him out to the trainer’s place and released a couple of quail for him.  Even at that age he hunted hard and just had the time of his life chasing birds all around the field.  His last hunting trip was this fall where he got that one last pheasant and must have had a smile on his face for the next three days.

Even as late as last weekend he was running at the farm. Even while he didn’t feel the greatest he still had the look in his eye like that moment was the greatest moment ever.

It’s funny how a dog can change your life.  When we got Charles we were just interested in getting a competitive show dog that Amy could show.  Charles introduced us to a world of new people many of whom have become good friends.   He was also Amy’s personal protector and constant companion (or stalker, it was such a fine line).

We will miss him greatly and there is definitely a large open space in the house, but we’re sure he is somewhere with his best friend Maggie chasing birds.

We miss you Charles and thank you for all that you have done for us!

-Dave & Amy Pluth

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