Charlie came into my life last year, on the day of the first snowfall.
Now, as far as I know, his name wasn't Charlie then, but, it is what we finally settled with after a few false starts.
On the day in question I was heading into the local village, from my camp, to catch the bus into town so that I could replenish my stores and get some materials for the refit that I was doing.
As I walked along the track a small dachshund trotted up to say hello. A friendly little chap, he looked well fed and had a happy air.
Clearly off on his own little adventure we spent some time together, then, as I had a bus timetable to consider I bid farewell and set off, once again on my way.
The little dog was unsure of what to do, he started following then headed off in the opposite direction, stopping every now and then and stared at me.
Finally I gave in and followed, maybe he was a a wannabe Lassie and he was trying to tell me something.
Eventually I followed him to a local farmhouse, where I knocked on the door to enquire if this was their pet.
When the door opened, he started to walk in, clearly at home, but, was stopped by a well place foot.
No, it wasn't their dog, they hadn't seen it before, maybe it belonged to one of the hunting party that had been around earlier that week.
We set off, this little guy and myself, I had to head to the village, I had a bus to catch as I badly needed provisions.
I talked to him as we strolled along the track, and he wagged his tail.
As we approached civilisation, and the ruined buildings on the outskirts of the village he jumped over the (small) ditch and headed into the fields.
Clearly havinghad enough adventure for the day, I thought, he's heading home (although there would be no home for a few kilometres at least.) I called goodbye and increased my pace.
As I passed the ruined buildings I heard heavy footsteps and the little dog burst through the undergrowth and landed in front of me, on the track.
Looking pleased with himself, he rejoined my travel toward the village, sometime scampering off in front, at other times trotting happily by my side.
I was getting a little worried about this chap. In all my time visiting the village I had nover come across him, but, he was clearly a yound dog, about six months to a year is my guess, so maybe he was a new pet.
As we approached the local govt building where the library (that I am writing this in), he increased his pace and trotted off down the road with his tail wagging like crazy and never a look back.
He had found his way home.
I made the bus on time and returned home later that day with my provisions.
The next few days saw the onset of winter, temperatures were dropping rapidly and the snow was getting deeper.
That Saturday I set off for the village to collect water for the coming week. Temperatures were due to drop to -15 centigrade that night, so I wanted to make sure that I had enough water for my coffees!
On the way back with 20 litres of water in my backpack, I became aware od a shadow that was closing in on me from behind.
It was my little friend from the other day, a fair bit skinnier and showing signs of having had an altercation with another dog or two. But, all the same, still the happy little chap that I had met the first time around.
Maybe that was because he recognised me, maybe because he had a plan and it was working.
We wlaked together and I kept talking to him, he kept looking up and wagging his tail and before long we were back at my camp site. (At one stage he did depart and go to another farmstead, but, when I took another path, he quickly returned to me.)
Now, there was going to be a problem.
I already had two dogs.
Big dogs.
Big dogs that have lived togther for three years, one from being a puppy, and, they weren't used to sharing me.
I could see the potential of two 40 kilo dogs doing something terrible to a dachshund, so I had to think this out.
In the end I saw the solution.
Our new addition was put on a loose rope lead, I then went and took Jeb, the younger of my dogs, out of the vardo and with him also on a lead, took the newcomer and Jeb for a walk.
Having both dogs on the lead meant that I had complete control should anything unfortunate start to happen, but, I needn't have worried.
The little dog did everything right when it came to meeting something many times bigger than itself and, Jeb, happy with the submissive stance of the newcomer decided that he would play, so soon I had to stop while the two of them rolled around and jumped on each other.
Happy with that outcome I now needed to go and get Ellie.
At ten years old and with a history of problems from the day I first got her, I wondered how this meeting would pan out.
Ellie had been through a bad life before ending up in a dog shelter when her owner was sent to jail. A larger German shepherd, she had been a puppy factory for her alcoholic owner, and clearly had also been abused (any time that she felt threatened, she would full on attack me, I have plenty of scars to remind me of the early days.)
Friends begged me to have Ellie put down, but, being the stubborn person that I am, I stuck with her, and my decision paid off. She is now a loving dog that I fully trust (although we do have the odd relapse once or twice a year.)
I needn't have worried about Ellie and our visitor, his size clearly brought out the mothering instinct in Ellie and she took him on like one of her own pups.
I chatted with the locals about a lost dog, I spoke with the local police, but no-one has ever come forward to claim him.
He went through a variety of names before we settled on Charlie, and, he's been with us for about three months.
He is an adventurer, and given the chance he would disappear I am sure, his excitement when he sees or smells deer in the distance would no doubt end up with him getting lost again, so, he is always in his harness when we go for walks.
Ellie is busy teaching him vardo life etiquette, and he play fights with Jeb at every opportunity. His character is that of a confident little character that is completely at home with his new family and, he's been taken on and accepted as one of our own.
I doubt very much if we will ever meet his previous owners, even though my journey, once onthe road again, will cover most of the local area to start with, and, if we do meet them, then it will be up to Charlie whether or not he goes back to them.
Of course, I would prefer that he stays with us.
So, meet Charlie, a lucky, happy little chap that is about to embark on the adventure of his life...