Nicknames: Carlie-Cue, Coo, Carlie-Banana-Barley (don't ask--even we don't know:), Punkin, PunkinButt, Potato (she once stole a potato right off the kitchen counter and mauled it) and the Punkinator (derived from the Terminator-- again, don't ask: ).
Gotcha Date: April 4th 2006
Birthday: June 22nd 2004
Likes: Love, love, love. She can't get enough.
Pet-Peeves: Other than not getting enough cuddle-time, I don't think she has one. Maybe when I blow in her ears, but, don't wory, she always pays me back in kind: )
Favorite Toy: Who needs toys? It's so much more fun to run around in crazy circles and chase air itself.
Favorite Food: She loves CharleeBear treats; LOVES THEM! Although, I think her first love may be a near-empty jar of peanut butter, which we let her clean out for us (note: don't try this at home, unless you enjoy creating and later fixing bad habits).
Favorite Walk: If it involves food, Carlie is a big fan. She loves to go for walks with us to a little ice cream shop and get a "Doggy Cone." Everyone at the shop knows her by name! A close second is Mathiessen State Park in Utica, IL--waterfalls, frogs, and mud, oh my!
Best Tricks: She can play possum, roll over, dance, belly-crawl, and 'fetch' her own treats, but her best trick is alerting me of an impending seizure, fetching the telephone and opening the door for emergency personnel.
Arrival Story: We were looking to adopt an Aussie or Border Collie because we really wanted to get involved with Canine Agility, and the elderly Border Collie we had at the time, while wonderful, was no agility dog.
We had been all-over Petfinder.com and had been regular visitors to the websites of all the local Border Collie & Aussie Rescues. By chance, we found an ad in our local newspaper advertising Aussie pups and decided to go take a look.
However, when we arrived, we quickly realized it was a backyard-breeding situation, and not one we wanted to be involved in. Poor Carlie was not-quite two-years-old at that time, and had already had three litters. The advertised puppies were her third litter and were far from purebred, as the ad had claimed. We might have turned around and walked away, but Carlie chose that moment to jump up on me, begging for attention and her then-owner cruelly kicked her away, drawing a startled yelp from her. It was too much. We couldn't stand to leave her there. So, instead of purchasing a puppy (though, you must know, we wanted to get them all out) we negotiated a price to buy Carlie and brought her home with us the very same day.
Bio: Carlie has been horribly abused. At first, she was so afraid of our reactions, she wouldn't pee if she knew we were watching, wouldn't eat or drink if someone was in the room, wouldn't get on furniture or enter her crate without cringing, as if fearing a blow. She wouldn't even bark--not even a little "woof."
After months of careful training, Carlie came out of her shell and began the long process of learning to be a real dog again. Three-years later, she's an obedience champion, a canine trickster extraordinaire, and she even barks--never in the house, but outside, with a game of fetch going on, we call her our "cheerleader."
All that would have been more than enough--we would have been just as in love with Carlie for her progress and that sweet, wonderful personality she's so eager to share with us every day, but, she did something amazing. She saved my life.
Exhibiting a behavior rare in all breeds of dogs, but most common in Australian Shepherds, she was able to identify an impending seizure and alert me before it occurred. With additional training, she's now able to work as my Seizure Service and Rescue Dog--providing me (a lifelong Epileptic) freedom and peace-of-mind. To our family, and to myself, she is worth her weight in gold, and then some.
Mom found an entire trash bag (the really big black kind) almost full of our old dog toys from our old house--somehow this bag didn't get unpacked after the move. Mom and Penny and I had a great time digging through the bag. Penny and I got so excited, waiting to see what squeaker would come out next!
And, like the well-mannered girls we are, we handled our excitement very well and divided the toys equally between us. We only argued just once and it was because there was a very special toy--a soft, squeaky octopus--in the bag and we both wanted, really bad.
I won though, because even though I'm such a nice girl, I can be a bully when I need to. And besides, Penny always hoards all of the toys in her bed, anyway. And, she stole my favorite sheep and ripped out his squeaker last week! So, I think its only fair.
Mom says she'll post some new pictures soon of us and all our new toys--we made a huge mess!
In addition to now being called an old lady, Mom has started calling my PunkinButt-- it started as an endearment, Punkin, which was kind of cute, and kind of mushy, but it was okay . . . . . now she's getting personal; she's making fun of the butt.
See, when Mom brought me home, I weighed 33 lbs., but I could have stood to gain a few pounds, and Mom was determined to fatten her girl up-- two weeks later, I was up at 41 lbs. a nice, healthy weight. All on account of this really good food mom prepares just for me my coat was getting shinier all the time and these day, everyone who meets me comments on my beautiful silky and extraordinarily shiny coat. So there I was, a beautiful, shiny coat, a perfectly toned body, at the perfect weight (and all this only two months postpartum)-- Mom wishes she were so talented!
But, then we started visiting "Grandma" a lot, and well, she's nto so good about hiding her kitties' food from me . . . . and I went from a nice, lean 41 lbs. to a pleasantly plump 54.2 lbs. And I hate to admit it, but I gained it all in my derriere.
Mom thinks this is incredibly funny, because well, in her family derrieres are not only appreciated, but all too common-- she keeps saying I fit right in!
And now, instead of being her cute little Punkin, she calls me PunkinButt-- and once she even admitted, it fits me well, because my butt looks like a pumpkin! How unbelieveably insensitive! Doesn't she know that I can't go on a diet, because she makes my food!! And I can't get any more exercise, unless I run laps around the cats???
I sincerely hope that all you out there reading this are more sensitive to your dogs' needs! Harrummpp . . . . pumpkin butt indeed!
Me to Karley: Karley, all I can ever hope for is your happiness. Everytime I look at you, with your happy smiling face, and your big soft eyes I think of the horror your life has been. And with every minute of my life with you, I will strive to make the rest of your life truly happy--- you deserve it!