Charlie is an Italian Greyhound from down under that makes Heidi Klum look like she would buy pants in the petite section. In other words, he has legs for days. I’ve gotten married, had three kids, and cashed out my 401K all in the span of this dingus’s legs. I mean REALLY, does anybody mind that these gams could serve as a literal bridge over troubled water??
Put a pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove because this dog is straight up made of noodles. He is the noodliest and I cannot take it. It’s Bambi Bolognese up in here and Thumper is ready to eat.
That’s Thumper, right?!?
Like many dinguses, Charlie’s general aesthetic straddles the fence between awkward and pure elegance. He looks so utterly delicate, but also like he is a middle school boy who doesn’t know what to do with all of his limbs.
Honestly, who could be bothered to keep track of all of that leg?
Especially when you’re busy with other things, like being The Dingus Prince of the Fawns. And yes, that is a real title. Just because I made it up doesn’t mean it is not official.
There is no question that Charlie knows his angles. Scrolling through his Instagram makes me feel like an overly enthusiastic photographer on America’s Derpiest Top Model. Cue me yelling at my computer screen, “That’s right, Charlie, give us your toothiest smile. Your petal-to-stalk ratio is out of control, so you might as well lean into it.”
“I feel like you can lean in further, Charlie.”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about. Try a little more crazed. Like you rented out this ballroom for a dingus gala and the passed appetizers just came out of the kitchen.”
“Maybe add a dash of drunk. I want to smell the Chardonnay on your breath.”
I would also be popping bottles if I looked this good in a turtleneck.
But nothing compares to Charlie in the bathtub. That is truly dingus gold. Just LOOK at those knobby knuckles. Also, why is there a towel around his neck? He looks like a baby hooligan turned 60-year-old man who is about to hit the sauna after playing a rousing game of racquetball. It’s too much.
Actually, no. His little tongue is too much. To be that rubber duckie!!
I don’t know where Charlie found this tiny tub, and I especially don’t know how he fit his Bambi legs in there. It makes no sense!!!
But being a dingus doesn’t have to make sense. In fact, it probably shouldn’t. And that’s why Charlie will always have the secret password to get into my goon squad clubhouse. Now let’s honor Charlie’s Australian heritage with a picture of him imitating a kangaroo.