Charlie (Chaplin) Crofton

10.7.2017 – 28.5.2022

Charlie’s mum, Kathryn, said;

“Charlie came into my life quite by accident. He belonged to someone I knew and the family had little experience of Goldens. He also happened to be a full-blood brother of both of my dogs, Laurel and Hardy. He lived in a big house with lots of land but he was really unhappy and kept running away. Once when he got out I went to look for him in the lashings of rain, to no avail. Their child kept hitting him with a stick and poor Charlie wasn’t happy about it at all. The family used to go out at the weekend and Charlie was left alone and would poo and pee inside in a small area. I spoke to the owners and said that I would take him at the weekend, so on Friday afternoon I would collect him and bring him back Sunday night.

On Friday afternoon, on approaching the house, he knew my car engine and would spin incessantly with excitement as he knew he was going to see Laurel and Hardy. He would spend all weekend running on the beach and in UCD with his brothers. On Sunday, going under the fly-over he knew he was going home and you could hear a big groan from the back of the car. He knew he was going back.  I used to take him when they were on holiday for 6 weeks and after two years they had to do their house up and knew that it would be at least another year before they could move back in. I looked after him. They never asked for him back. Finally, I got them to sign the IKC form to relinquish him and I changed his name to Charlie. Charlie Chaplin Crofton.

Although his initial experience was bumpy to say the least. It wasn’t the worst, I am sure they loved him, just knew nothing about dogs and what they need. Charlie then came to live with me and my troupe and we became three. My mum asked “when is he going home?”, “he isn’t. He is home”. That was the conversation. Charlie was everything you would want in a dog. Sweet, gentle, a little pushy, but as the years passed, he mellowed even further. He got on with every dog alive and was quite protective of his little troupe. His wife was ‘Angel’ who took no prisoners, was perfect for him. She knew how much affection to give and when not to, in order not to bully her. When she died last June, it seemed that a light left him and she had taken it with her. However, true to form when other fosters came, it seem to buck him up. He got to the point that at almost 15 it was time to go home. He loved sitting in the garden in the sunshine, when he had enough he would bark at you to help him in. He would bark at the oddest times at night, sometimes to let him out to the loo, others for a cuddle and to remind him how much he was loved. We decided to let him go in style and so arranged for a pre-birthday since he was 1 month short of 15. He got a cake with candles and we all sang happy birthday. He really felt happy and the centre of attention, I know he loved it as he constantly smiled. I will miss this gentle old boy, who loved to nuzzle you when you felt down.  I will miss him and often expect to hear him barking to call me down for a cuddle. No doubt he is causing lots of trouble up there and am sure it was a memorable reunion when he got to heaven. He was surrounded by love from the moment he came into my life and was welcomed home to heaven by the one thing that matters, because it’s the only thing that lasts…. Love.”