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Posted on 12/30/2001 2:23:27 PM PST by ouroboros

Don’t mean to put a downer on you during the holiday season, but my inherited, decrepit dog has gone west. He just plain wore out.

As aggravating as he could be, I miss the little fellow. He always wore a silly grin on his face so that you couldn’t help but smile when you looked at him. His favorite place was under my feet or at my heels if I was walking about the house attending to chores.

He never got on the furniture unless I was away. Then he would sleep on the couch. If I was quiet coming in, I’d catch him. He’d looked surprised, then jump down and turn on the silly grin. Occasionally, if I had a late day and didn’t get back in time, he’d find what he thought was a discreet corner of the carpet to relieve himself. But he couldn’t hide it. He’d greet me with ears down, his tail tucked in and a mournful expression. Then I knew to get the rug cleaner out.

But all in all, he was a boon companion, and I hope he is now romping about with his original owner, my late wife. Both of them were cheerful people. They deserve a heaven with only spring for its season.

He is the last dog or person I will invite into the house, though. I’ve outlived too many people I care about to get attached to any more living beings other than the ones I’m already attached to. One gets tired of too many goodbyes.

Still, pets serve a good purpose for children, once the children are old enough not to unintentionally abuse them. A pet can teach a child responsibility and also love — and, eventually, how to handle death. I remember all my dogs. And I remember my first experience with loss was when a terrier named Skippy died. I was still a preschooler, and I refused to accept that he was gone until, at last, I dug him up where we had buried him in the garden. Then I knew he couldn’t come back.

Probably the most important lesson a person can learn is to accept inevitability and finality. Learning that might even be the gateway through which we pass from childhood to maturity, regardless of our chronological age. Learning finality, we appreciate the present moment. It really is, as the Buddhists teach, the only life we ever experience. The past is only a memory; the future never comes. There is only a succession of present moments until we use up the last one.

Brother Dave Gardner always said that dogs were man’s best friend because they wouldn’t tell on us. Dogs are uncommonly loyal if one treats them decent.

I love a story a friend of mine tells about his father. Their dog had killed a neighbor’s goose. His dad paid for the goose, but the goose owner said, as he was about to leave, “If I catch that dog on my property again, I’ll kill him.”

“Well,” my friend’s father said in the typically low, calm voice of Southern men who are dangerous, “You do that, and if nothing real bad happens to you, you’ll know you done the right thing.”

I even know of one case where a man, very fond of his hunting dog, shot a man who kicked the dog. As strange as that might strike urban ears in the early 21st century, it was a very common and normal attitude among rural folks. You didn’t mess with a man’s wife, his children or his dog without facing serious consequences. Most everything else they would share, even with strangers.

At any rate, tonight I’ll toss his collar, dog food, bowl and leash out and go on.

As the famous fictional character Gus McCrae said in “Lonesome Dove” (the only American masterpiece written since World War II) at the grave of a young rider: “Life is short. Shorter for some than for others. Now we best move on to Montana.”

Charley Reese makes his case in clear, concise prose. "It's not important to me if people agree or disagree with my point of view," he says. "What I hope my column does is provoke people into thinking about issues, about the world, and their place in it."

Reese, a conservative columnist, does not mince words. In his column, which King Features Syndicate distributes three times a week to more than 150 newspapers, he does not hesitate to take a stand and back it up to the end. In 1985, after being horrified by acts of terrorism around the world, Reese said succinctly: "The wise thing to do with a terrorist is shoot him."

Charley Reese was born Jan. 19, 1937, in Washington, Ga. He was raised there, in eastern Texas and northwest Florida. By the time he was 19, he had worked as a janitor, printer, cub reporter, civil servant and caption writer for Plant News Pictures, Ltd. in London. In 1955, he began his career at the Pensacola News in Florida as a cub reporter. For the next 10 years, he worked at various newspapers, honing his craft by reporting everything from sports to politics. Between 1969 and 1971, he worked as a campaign staffer for gubernatorial, senatorial and congressional races in several states.

He joined The Orlando Sentinel in 1971 as assistant metro editor. He later became assistant to the publisher, then columnist and editorial board member. He retired from the paper in July 2001. He has traveled to Europe and the Middle East on assignments, all the while maintaining his distinctly American style of journalism.

Reese served two years of active duty in the Army and received an honorary doctorate from Webber College in Florida. He has been nominated for the Pulitzer Prize and voted the best columnist in Florida by both the Florida Press Association and the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors.

He is the author of four books, including "Great Gods of the Potomac," and was the ghost writer of "The Eleventh Hour" by Gen. Lewis Walt. An American foundation commissioned Reese to write a study of the Swiss national defense system. Reese has won numerous journalism and civic awards. His column is read by decision makers around the globe. A column he wrote on the House of Hope, a home for abused teens, prompted President Reagan to write a personal check for $1,000 to the organization.

Reese makes his home in Florida. He is the father of three grown children.

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