FRONT PORCH GOSPEL: Ode to Charlie, the world’s greatest kisser
Good day to all. Welcome to the “front porch.”
A month or so ago I sat down to write a column that started this way:
“Charlie has grown old, and we know that his time with us is growing short. This is an empty feeling inside that I haven’t felt since I was twelve and my brother Wayne and I had to take our lifelong friend – a half-chihuahua, half who-knows-what named Chico – to the vet one day and came home holding nothing but his collar. Half a century has passed, and we are only a few weeks from coming home with an empty collar. I’m not any more ready for it now than I was way back then.”
I decided not to complete that piece at the time, to wait until the time came. The time came last Saturday.
Somebody reached down into my chest and just grabbed my ol’ heart and yanked on it. That’s how it feels. Many of you know. Chico did the exact same thing to me 50 years ago. And, now, Chico Jr. has replayed the scene for us, once more.
Over the next few months, I expect I will pause from time to time to reflect about my best friend whose main goal in life was to kiss everybody in the world as many times as he could. Charlie was a sweet thing, to be sure. It’s just that he had no governor on his throttle. Thus, he justifiably earned his nickname of being our Boston “Terror.”
Charlie was a terror, mainly, in that he had a mind of his own. Philosophically, he was against going against that mind unless he saw somebody coming with a fly-swatter. My daughter Rachel – who shared “joint custody” of the boy at their home in Burleson – could tell him to do something, and he’d look at me to get a second opinion. But regarding the question, “Should I run and jump on that person and kiss them half to death?” he never asked anybody for permission.
The ability to greet people and make them feel welcome was Charlie’s greatest attribute. He met everybody who came to the door with his jumping-up-on-you, kissing-you-in-the-mouth personality. He was a big terrier, and strong, and he could jump the six feet needed to get to a pair of irresistible lips.
When he was just a few months old and staying at Rach’s, he got loose once, ran across the street to a family who was having a cook-out in their garage, and went person to person kissing every one of them. Then he ran back home satisfied, as if he thought he got some brownie points in heaven for what he just did.
I made the mistake one year of taking him through the Red Oak parade at Founder’s Day with our basketball team. A hundred unsuspecting victims got caught that day leaning down just a little and saying “Ah, sweet dog.” They wouldn’t have the word “dog” out of their mouth before they had him all in their face. You couldn’t hold him back. They got free candy from the parade walkers that day, and they got a mouthful of free kisses from the Terror.
Once a pizza man delivered a pizza to Rachel and her family only to get a surprise when he got back to the car. He called Rach on his phone, and said, “Ma’am, you’d better come out to the car and get your dog. He’s sitting here in my front seat.” Charlie decided, I guess, that – while living with Rach or with us was all well and good – living with the pizza guy had advantages, too.
Once he jumped through the car’s driver’s side window when some of my ballplayers drove by to see me. Before I could pry him loose, that car full of boys all got to know Charlie up close and personal.
I’ll leave you with a laugh, no tears, and a fair image of the biggest Terror to roam this part of the country. Approximately half the population of Red Oak has enjoyed the world’s greatest and wettest kisses at the mercy of my happy, funny, hyper, slobbering buddy. For ten years, everybody who met Charlie learned a great lesson in the power of a friendly greeting. We would all do well to put that into practice ourselves, although I do recommend toning it down just a bit right at first.
Coach Steven Bowen, a long-time Red Oak teacher and coach, now enjoys his time as a full-time writer and preacher of the gospel. In addition to his evangelistic travels, he works and writes for the Church of Christ of Red Oak at Uhl Road and Ovilla. Their worship times are 10 a.m. Sundays and 7:30 pm. Wednesdays. Email: coachbowen1984@gmail.com or call or text 972-824-5197.