28October2025
Dear Diary,
My name is Charlie, a Labrador with a charm that seems to win over everyone I meet. Occasionally, Im forced to bite when the world gets a little too much for meso I keep my nose in the air and my tail steady. Im fiercely loyal to my human, Evelyn, no matter what she does or who she becomes. That part of my life is nonnegotiable. I love her, and thats that.
She brought me home when I was just a month old; she was, by my calculations, 408 months34 yearsold. No need for a calculator, Ill do the math for you. The very next evening, she was perched on the floor of our modest twobedroom council flat in East London, nursing her fourth glass of cheap red wine, stroking my fur while tears streamed down her cheeks.
Go on, off you go, Charlie, she sobbed. I finally have a dog wholl never betray me. Tell me, whats wrong with me? She confessed she wasnt much of a cook, so she signed up for French cooking lessons and promised to cut down the muttering. Then she started complaining about my wardrobeYoure always in those baggy jumpers, looking like a sack of potatoes. Its embarrassing. She overhauled the whole closet with help from her mother and grandmother, who donated a mountain of their own clothes.
Soon she stopped looking at me as a pet and more as a confidante. She hinted at intimacy, saying life felt dull and movies showed people who truly cared about their partners. I spent two months on YouTube watching tutorials on oral techniques, almost ruining two bags of bananas in the process. My grandmother rescued me with two buckets of fresh cornher everything for him motto. Yet the man shed been with disappeared. Charlie, youre my one and only. Dont ever leave me, alright? she pleaded.
I gazed into her swollen, mascarastreaked eyes and licked her cheek. What else could I do? I could eat a shoe and a hat in one bite, but a puppy cant do much beyond that. She wrapped her arms around me and we fell asleep, the red wine still the culprit of all our woes.
As my little accidents on the carpet grew in proportion to the size of the flat, Evelyn poured all her remaining energy into caring for me. I watched a channel on fivestar Turkish resortsallinclusive escapeswhile we lived our own version of ultraallinclusive: she fed me until I was stuffed, Saturdays special being avocado. My responsibilities? Escorting her to work each morning and then waiting for her return, which honestly meant I napped most of the day. When she came home, shed kiss me, toss me a bit of mince, and wed both feel content. My heart swelled with love for her, wholeheartedly.
Then a new character entered our flata lanky bloke from her office, lets call him Mark. They came back from a cinema, downed cheap red wine in the kitchen, and retired to the bedroom. The sounds suggested she was pleased. If she was happy, I was happy too. Yet the next morning she, for the first time in our life together, forgot my breakfast. Marks shoes answered that slight, disappearing as if theyd never existed. I wanted to punish him, but Evelyn looked at Mark with such affection that I reconsidered.
Mark turned out to be a decent fellow, bringing meat home now and then. He hid his shoes in the fridgeodd, but his lunchtime visits were the only times he showed up, and occasionally hed stay the night. In the evenings Evelyn was glued to her phone, presumably chatting with him, and the house grew quieter. Weekends became a bleak ritual: she stared at her screen while the cat, Jasper, prowled about. One night, as she was nursing a glass of red, she patted my head and sighed:
Ah, Charlie, why does everything have to be so tangled? Hes married, but hes a decent man, and the dowry I thought I could change his mindset. I track every like he gets on Instagram, cant tear myself away. Im better than his wife, Charlie. Look at my chestnatures gift. Im showing you, my dog, my own little miracle. The holidays are near, and itll just be you and me again.
She wept softly. I snarled with a mix of love and jealousy.
The following day, Mark arrived for lunch in a suit, only to lose it in her bedroom. As soon as he left, I sprang into action. Every tear she shed would have its answer. Soon the suit was reduced to nothing but a few torn cuffs and pant legs. Luck was on my side when I found two phones charging on the floorhis and hers. I chewed through both, sparing the house from endless staring and latenight sobbing.
Mark burst out of the bedroom in his bathrobe, realized there was nothing left to wear and no phone, and seized me by the leash. Evelyn screamed, trying to protect me. Mark shoved her aside, bundled me up, and shoved me into his cars boot. I imagined the crash, the moment Id leap at him, but instead he drove me to a veterinary clinic. They tossed me into a cage, jabbed something into my vein, and my strength faded. When I came to, a strangera middleaged womanwas stroking me through the cage bars, speaking into a phone:
What are they going to do? Take the dog, play with it, then toss it? Theyll pay a thousand, then euthanise it, dear. Ill call you back.
She leaned closer, one hand soothing, the other holding a syringe aimed at my side. I wasnt stupid; I understood the threat. A sorrowful bark rose in my throat for Evelyn, wondering how shed manage without me. Woof, woof, woofgoodbye, world.
Suddenly the door slammed open; Evelyn burst in, eyes red and swollen.
Stop! No, dont! Ive found you, Ive found you!
The woman in the clinic grunted, muttering that the thousand pounds wouldnt be returned, but we didnt have time for that. Evelyn lunged at me, and I lunged at her.
Charlie, Ive been to every clinic! Forgive me, forgive me! Can you hear me?
They say dogs dont cry. That day I let a single tear slip. Keep it to yourself, diary.
We made it home and collapsed into sleep.
Later, Evelyn lost her jobMark had a hand in that. My diet lost its meat, leaving me with porridge; I became a passive vegetarian. She refused to give up, though. We started dawn jogs together. Most of the time shed jog, Id trot, and shed marvel at the birch trees lining the path. After a few weeks she ran faster, the red wine habit fading. Jasper the cat would occasionally bring corn and old skirts to keep us company.
Evelyn enrolled in a horticulture course shed long wanted, learning to arrange bouquets. I nudged her, hoping shed swap flowers for meatmeat bouquets being the ultimate earthly delight. When she chose flowers instead, I understood. I filled our flat with bouquets and declared:
If no one gives me flowers, Ill make my own and give them away.
She got the hint. On our next run I presented her with a large, green dandelion root plucked from the roadside. She smiled, hugged me, and kissed my nosepure sentiment.
Soon she landed a job at a flower shop, which thrilled both of us. All the floristry clutter moved into the shop, and our flat finally resembled a proper home rather than a hayloft. Meat returned to my bowl, and life felt right again.
Two years later, Sergey moved in to fix the fridge and stayed. Sergey was a decent bloke, never causing trouble, and Evelyn laughed with him all the time. More recently a tiny version of Sergey arriveda little boy Evelyn asked me to protect and love. Ill do it, because thats what a dog does.
Thats all for now. My world spins around Evelyn, the flat, the occasional red wine, and the everchanging cast of characters that drift in and out of our lives. Ill keep watching, waiting, and lovingjust the way a Labrador should.
Charlie.
