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JSC0129.jpg (27386 bytes) Hi! My name is Chuck.  I'm John and Janet's favorite doggie in the whole world.  I was born June 1st 1998 on a cattle farm in Indiana.  My Mom was an Australian Cattle Dog also known as a Blue Heeler.   My Dad was a 'rolling stone' and all we know about him was that he was brown and very big.  They tell me I was sort of the outcast of my litter and that my brothers and sisters ignored me.  I really don't remember any of them or those things.
My people Mom and Dad say they picked me to be their doggy because I just sat there waving my left paw at them.  I think they picked me because of the white ring around my nose.  Really it doesn't matter why, all I know is  I'm one lucky pooch to have such good parents.  It was kind of   a shock to see I had to share my new house with two yuckey cat brothers and one ugly cat sister. They just never understood my inbred urge to herd them around.

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The first thing my people learned about me was that I love to chew, chew and chew some more. When I was a pup I'd chew anything I could get in my mouth.  My favorite was eating my puppy blanket. No one could believe such a small puppy could eat such a large blanket in such a short time.  They think I'm part nanny goat.  I'm also known as "Chuckie the Snow Dog" because I always seem happiest running and playing in the cold and snow.
I grew pretty quickly and the saddest day for my cat friends was when I could finally jump on the bed. They used to sit on the bed and smack me in the nose if I came close.  Like all doggies I went through my terrible two's and my Dad kept saying he was going to sell me to the gypsies who ever they are.  Mom and Dad also made the mistake of falling for the 'use a cage to train your dog' school of thought. They got a big old metal cage for me to sleep in or get locked up in when I was bad.

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Then I had the worst and best day of my dog life.  Mom and Dad went out shopping and left me at home locked in that stupid cage.  Being an emotional kind of pooch I'd grind my teeth on the bars.  Well stupid me got my left canine tooth caught in the bars.  I panicked and I broke the top of it off.  I was a miserable poochie, it really hurt.  That night however my Mom and Dad decided no more stupid cages for me. They say I'm a totally new dog.
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My Mom and Dad now trust me to stay home alone and they say I'm a good watch dog.  I have free run in the house but outside they had to put me on a chain or a leash. The bigger I got the easier it was to hop a fence or dig under it.  Besides I think they just feel sorry for the stinky rabbits and squirrels who run through our yard.  My Dad say's he misses watching me run.   I guess it's for the best cause we live on a highway and they love to speed here.

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At three years old I became what my Dad calls a 'special needs' doggy.  I woke up in the middle of the night, walked into our living room and collapsed.  My Dad heard me and said I looked like I was electrocuted or choking to death. It turned out that I'm epileptic and have Grand Mal seizures.  I don't know what these skeezures were but I was happy when I'd wake up just like I came home from a long trip.  Now I take medicine to keep the skeezures away. So far so good. "Twist a cat's tail."

Also at three years old I became allergic to molds and pollens.  It seems during the Fall all I do is itch and eat pillzies. If it gets really bad, Dad's got to get up in the middle of the night to give me medicine. Now you know why I like Wintertime so much.   No allergies for me when the ground is covered with snow.

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