Pet Advice – Straight from
the Horse’s Mouth:
Cheddar, the Golden
Retriever:
The Best Writing Companion
Since Barley
by Bernard Levy
Dear Readers:
Although I have a large
backlog of requests for pet advice, I found the following column on my desk about
our editor’s golden retriever writing companion, Cheddar. It’s a very good example of how a pet not
only can enhance the quality of your life, but can contribute to your goals. As I read the column, Cheddar’s
contributions were simply a pet’s reactions during the day. But, more importantly, Cheddar was there and
contributed in his own way to help our editor, the writer, work through a
journalist’s difficulty.
There are lessons in
everything; goodness knows, I’ve learned as much from my pets as hopefully they
learned from me. However, it seems to
me that Mr. Levy understands the value and meaning of true friendship.
-Charlie Tsence
_____________________________________________________________________
When a writing buddy, a real
contributor to content and creativity, dies in your arms of cancer, part of you
dies with him. Barley was my 24/7
writing assistant, a prod when things got rough and a joy when elation was the
theme of the day. Cheddar has taken his
place, and he’s finally gotten with the program.
Under the desk and at my
feet, he’s there with suggestions and answers at the appropriate times. Take today, for instance.
I became paralyzed with the
overwhelming number of subjects that needed to be covered. Paralysis for me is not writer’s block; it’s
establishing a writing priority for the important issues.
And, so I asked Cheddar,
“There’s much more to be said on the midterm election results, but hasn’t
enough been said for now?” He opened
and rolled his eyes – ‘nuff said.
“Okay Cheddar, ol’ boy, what
about covering Iraq? Should we take a
stab at what we believe our continuing involvement in Iraq should be or wait a
while? What does it sound like to you?”
This, Cheddar implied, was
worth considering. He stretched, stood
and requested some serious rubbing.
“Right on. We’ve got one winner. What about the economy, the new records
being set every day by the Dow Jones Industrial Average? Does the real economy – the one that you and
I work and live in – match what’s happening on Wall Street? Is this a subject I should get into?”
Cheddar’s response was
immediate. With tail wagging and
motioning for a cookie, he knew a unique column idea when he heard one. His approval merited the cookie and backyard
access, for reasons known but unspoken.
Cheddar has more than a peccable
knowledge of the world and the earthshaking, serious events taking place. His writing suggestions considered and
weighed, both of us knew my day’s work was clear; paralysis was broken, and the
words were flowing.
What, you say that Cheddar
was just fulfilling his needs and contributed nothing?
Oh, ye nonbeliever. Cheddar’s contributions made more sense than
those political, shoot-from-the-hip maxims and party line dribble flowing from our
so-called legislative representatives and others in “high government.” Cheddar doesn’t deal in half-truths,
political innuendo and chicanery.
Oh, but you say that he deals
in self-serving actions. Yes, I’ll give
you that one. But who is he hurting or
deceiving? Not the American public, not
the community and surely not our neighborhood.
His communications are direct and honest.
Wouldn’t it be delightful if our politicians could learn something
from Cheddar? If they communicated
honestly with the American public and worked to serve the needs of the citizens
and not their own special interests, I would gladly give them cookies – good ones,
too – and immediate access to our large backyard. God knows, they’re probably full right up to here and need to
relieve themselves.
Hope springs eternal but, in our
feckless political environment, it’s apparent that reality is maneuvering for
one’s own benefits and agenda. If
Cheddar does that, his actions are clear and nonhurtful. His love is unconditional and true, not tied
to lobbyist perks and campaign contributor pressures.
Years ago, as a young man
growing up in Trenton, New Jersey, I recall a pig farmer in, I believe, Secaucus,
New Jersey, who ran for president. His name
was Harry Krajewski. His running mate
was always his favorite pig (I forget his name). Harry’s presidential campaign drew many guffaws and numerous passing
remarks at Carmine’s Barbershop on Warren Street. But, you know, Harry and Pig may have been on to something. Unfortunately, I don’t have any numbers on
how effective they were in capturing the farm vote. If Harry was elected, his administration would have given the
term “pork barrel” real substance.
I don’t intend to run for
office with Cheddar, but we do make a heckava team, doncha think?