08/19/2025
Charlie's Angel of Alaric ( 10/30/76-11/21/89) was the dam of the first litter I bred in 1978. The sire was Ch Banbury Briar. Angie was a great bull terrier. She was a fabulous brood bitch. She loved everyone, babies, kids, cats, dogs, horses, cows and rabbits. She played ball like a champ, loved going on hikes and long car rides. She was my devoted companion for over 13 years. She was a country girl and a city girl. No matter where we were, as long as we were together, she was content. She was a great talker too. She made those sweet murmuring sounds so endearing to our breed. She was not a great swimmer; although she tried, she sank like a lead weight. We had to fish her out of the water one night when she decided to go for a midnight swim off my friend Jeff's docked boat. I knew she was contemplating it. Jeff said, "Nah, she won't," I said, "oh, yes, she will. " And she did. Pure bull terrier mischief. She fell into a pool once too. Ironically, she was quite sure footed as she sure could hold her own with the horses on a trail ride. I only surivived my first semester in graduate school, alone, far from friends and family in a little ranch house on the wrong side of the tracks, because of Angie. (Beer helped too) She slept in my bed, cuddled up next to me and sat at my feet as I plowed through reading material that made my head hurt, it was so dense and philosophical. She hated the cold as much as I did, and undeterred we confronted with the chilling winds of central Illinois and the never ending snowfall together. 'I'll go if you will," was our mantra. We grew up together. When she died, I felt as though I had lost a limb. She was my best girl.
