September - The North Star Monthly

12 September 2012 The North Star Monthly
Charley: a memoir
By Edmund J. Guest
We first saw Charley soon after his January
birth, a curious bundle of mottled fur
exploring a worn braided rug in the
chilly office of a New Hampshire dog breeder.
When placed in my wife’s arms, he briefly took
in her scent, then settled down for a nap. She was
smitten.
Charley grew into a handsome
buff-colored standard
poodle, an athletic 75 pounds
when fully grown, and as
smart as a whip. He was easily
trained, an energetic swimmer,
and although never trained for
the hunt, an instinctive pointer.
His brains and curiosity combined
in a devilish streak that
was both endearing and exasperating.
He loved cavorting in
the streams and ponds around
our home, and it was impossible
to keep him out of any body
of water that was not iced over.
We never treated him as a fluffy
show dog, and in fact, always
kept him trimmed in a working
poodle’s field cut.
Charley loved people, once
properly introduced, and was
especially considerate of children;
the smaller they were,
the better and more gently he
behaved. He was an integral
part of our lives for over 10
years and made our lives richer
and more interesting than we
could ever have imagined.
My wife and I had retired two
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Saturday, September 15th
1-3pm
with Garret Keizer
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Broad Street, Lyndonville, VT
Open M-F 10-6 • Sat 9-5 • (802) 626-5051
years before to a small Vermont
house we called “Good
Hours Cottage,” after the Robert
Frost poem. We planned
an active retirement of hiking,
skiing, and travel and hoped
to wander a good part of North
America pulling a travel trailer,
which in deference to our outdoorsy
self-image we called a
camper.
I had always wanted a dog
when I retired, had had several
in my youth, and two “for the
children” in adulthood. We
knew the change from hectic
urban professional lives to
sedate rural retirement would
be somewhat of a challenge.
What would we do with ourselves?
Could we really spend
more time together than ever
in our married life -- without
driving each other crazy? I fancied
a walking companion, an
unquestioning confidant who
would never disagree or talk
back, a buddy. I saw the care
and training of a dog as a perfect
retirement project! My wife
was not so sure. She saw something
more akin to another
child, a responsibility she didn’t
need or want as we entered our
autumn years. That is, until
that day Charley cuddled in
her warm arms. From then on,
Charley became our retirement
project, and to be perfectly honest,
her dog.
Although his registration
papers said “Good Hours Charlemagne,”
after our cottage and
as a more dignified version of
Good Time Charley, we really
named him after Steinbeck’s
poodle and traveling companion.
We too would “travel with
Charley.” And like Steinbeck’s
Charley, ours was an inveterate
napper who, given his
gyrations and muffled growls,
dreamt vividly while sleeping.
Also like his namesake,
he required regular outings to
anoint the shrubbery and run
off energy, and would also give
out a warning when someone
came near our home or camper,
especially after dark. The regularity
of Charley-walking and
his intimidating roar at a stranger’s
approach became welcome
assets when we traveled, forcing
an exercise regimen on both
of us and earning his keep as an
early warning system.
In his role as traveling companion,
ersatz personal trainer,
and watchdog, Charley accompanied
us from our base in Vermont
to the ends of the North
American road system -- the
Canadian Maritimes for summer
music festivals, Florida
for baseball spring training,
North Carolina’s Outer Banks
for surf fishing, the Rockies for
the magnificence of the national
parks, California for the wines,
even to the fringes of the Arctic
in Canada’s Northwest Territories.
He especially liked to visit
our daughters and their families
with the additional opportunities
to play with other dogs
and small children, and to get
into new and interesting mischief.
Charley was a good traveler,
but not a great tourist.
He was always ready to get in
any vehicle and go anywhere,
and he would soon claim the
most comfortable spot for his
frequent naps. He didn’t care
where we were going or what
we were seeing, as long as he
was along for the ride. Charley
didn’t think much of baseball,
Celtic fiddling, or even
spectacular scenery, and he
hated wine, although we did
have to limit his overeager beer
drinking. On the other hand,
he never protested when we
insisted he attend our various
outings. Charley would simply
find a cozy spot to curl up, raising
his head occasionally for
something really interesting,
and nap. No matter how loud
or raucous the music, as long as
he was with us, he was content.
It’s often said that people
can become very attached to
their dogs, and it is of course
true. The bond between human
and dog is elemental, as old
as Paleolithic campfires. And
Charley became very attached
to us. He needed to be with us
wherever we were. He’d follow
us from room to room as
we moved about the house and
look longingly at us whenever
we would leave him. He would
never make much of a fuss nor
petulantly vandalize his surroundings
as some dogs would
do when left alone, but his big
brown eyes and quiet murmur
would let us know he was not
comfortable with our leaving
him. On our travels, when left
in the camper while we had a
diner breakfast or toured someplace
he wasn’t welcome, he
rarely napped. We knew this
because we tried to catch him
sleeping, but even through binoculars
we could see him sitting
upright at a window and staring
at the last place his eyes had
tracked us.
And maybe that’s what
started it. On a rare trip without
him, Charley became very
sick while staying with our
daughter’s family. We’ll never
know what brought it on;
even the vets were stumped.
We self-importantly thought
maybe separation anxiety or
homesickness, but in reality he
was getting on in dog years,
had already begun to deal with
arthritis, and was just too weak
to fight off whatever caused the
anemia that debilitated him.
Our daughter and her family
did all they could, took
him to their own trusted vet,
authorized expensive tests, and
administered the latest drugs.
My wife and I hopped a redeye
flight back from the West Coast
as soon as we could and quickly
drove him home to his beloved
Vermont woods. For six weeks,
we nursed him and coddled
him, regularly visited our vet
where he was bombarded
with drugs, and we walked his
woods as his strength allowed.
But Charley was nearly 11
years old, about the average
lifespan for a standard poodle,
and when we asked the inevitable
question of our vet, she
advised us that there was no
hope. Charley would never get
better and in fact would soon
die a slow, enfeebled death.
We immediately decided
we wanted him to die with us
holding him, not in the arms of
one of his nightmarish dreams
some dark night. We laid his
limp emaciated body across
our laps as we sat on a dusty
braided rug, like the one where
we first saw him, and we gently
stroked his fur as Charley,
without complaint, took the last
injection he’d ever have. We
buried his ashes on a wooded
knoll overlooking the stream
he loved to wade, a cairn of
rocks marking the spot. Yes, he
was “just a dog,” but I’ve never
been so taken with an animal
and two years on we miss him
still.
When not traveling or visiting
grandchildren, Ed Guest
lives with his wife in East
Burke, Vermont. Charley may
well have been his last dog —
he’s still unable to consider getting
another.
Danville Congregational Church
An Open and Affirming, God is Still Speaking
Congregation of the United Church of Christ
“No matter who you are, or where you are on life’s
journey, you are welcome here!”
Sunday Worship 10 AM: We seek to involve all ages in the liturgy
of our service. Communion is served on the first Sunday of each
month. All are invited to participate in the sacrament, regardless of
age or affiliation. Childcare is available. Fully accessible.
Sunday School - Our Sunday School Program is in full swing.
Children participate in the first 15 minutes of our worship service,
recessing to their classes after the “Children’s Message.”
Make a Joyful Noise! Choir practice meets Thursday evenings from
6:30 to 7:30. Our Cherub Choir meets Sunday mornings at 9:30. Contact church office for more
information.
Community Dinner - Held on the 3rd Monday of each month, this FREE Dinner offers a healthy
meal and rich fellowship to our friends and neighbors. Donations received help offset the costs and
also go to The Open Door, our local food pantry and assistance agency.
Habitat for Humanity - We offer our labors in support of Habitat’s efforts to build safe and
affordable homes for residents in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont. Contact the church office for
information about an upcoming work date.
Contact us at (802) 684-1151 or pastor@danville-ucc.org or check out our website
at www.danville-ucc.org