Charlie stood on the beach

His beloved dog Chance was at his feet

They both had matted hair and dirty fingernails

Salty cheeks

It had been 14 weeks since he was laid off

He’d taken up smoking again, had developed a cough

How had his life come to this?

He sometimes begged on the street corner

He slept with Chance under the boardwalk or on the bench

How this life carried a stench

His family had left him

But he wasn’t a mourner

What would he do? He wanted to get back on his feet

But he had no money to his name

He realized, though, he was the one to blame

He stared at the bay

Chance swam away

But not toward the tennis ball

Charlie caught a glimpse of a brown creature in the water

It was so fast and smooth

To look again? He didn’t bother

The waves churned like his thoughts

So many things he ought to do

As he walked he saw a creature move across the sand

Out of the water toward the dunes – a long trek

Chance caught a glimpse and took off sprinting

What the heck

He returned to Charlie with a creature in his mouth

Brown, furry, long, hunchbacked, he let it out

An otter!!!

Charlie looked down

The otter didn’t run away

He chased the tennis ball when the wind tried to make it sway

Chance and the otter played

Charlie watched

Neither the otter nor the pup were fazed

Over the weeks Charlie worked like a circus performer

Chance and the otter trained

They could dance, they could jump, they could roll

People came to the boardwalk to see the trio

They paid a toll

The group got smarter and stronger

Their tricks more savvy

For the first time in a while, Charlie was happy

The animals were too

As time went on, their circus made money

Charlie could afford a house to rent

He was told the otter couldn’t stay  

He figured he’d come up with another way

He saved and saved, built his own small bungalow by the sea

Charlie, Chance, and the Otter – come and see!

Their shows continued, it was grand

Charlie met so many people and made them smile

Beauty and rest after a long trial

One day he coughed up some blood while training

Chance sat at his feet, sad

He knew it was bad

His master collapsed, a blood clot in his lung

He hadn’t smoked in 3 months but the damage was done

Chance and the otter had broken hearts

But they continued their art – to honor Charlie

They lived out their days swimming, playing, dancing

By the sea