The Last Few Days

Last week-end started out with a bang! The Maysville High School Class of 1959 held its 50th reunion in Maysville. On Friday night, about 50 people gathered at our house on Jersey Ridge for drinks and hor d'ouerves (I know that isn't spelled right, but I can't find it in the dictionary)and had a really relaxed and enjoyable evening. Being exclusively limited to old people, the party broke up about 10:30 and everybody went home. The next day, the committee had organized a tour so that out-of-towners could see for themselves what changes had come over our quaint little burg. Leonard Hendrickson, a classmate who has lived in Maysville all his life said he saw things on the tour he had never seen before and was very enthusiastic. The tour was followed by a picnic lunch at the Riverpark; the weather could not have been more accommodating. Now that none of us have children at home, we can have our reunions in the fall of the year, when the weather is more to everyone's liking, instead of the brutally hot days of August we used to endure. Saturday night at Caproni's was wonderful. Food was plain and simple and tasted good. After supper, the program consisted of the roll call and, when your name was called, you were to stand and tell everyone about your life since 1959 and your fondest memory of dear old MHS. Some of it was hysterically funny, some of it was confessional and a lot of it, tongue in cheek. For instance, I remembered how I played on the championship team that went to the state tournament in 1959. Any of you who know me know that I have never been able to walk and chew gum at the same time, much less play basketball. Incredibly, you could see the looks on some faces as they tried to remember me on the team. Finally, Billy Rex Parker stood up and asked if anyone remembered McNeill playing basketball in high school. Of course, no one did. The next part of the program was the awarding of gifts to those who were chosen because of the distance traveled to get here, the number of grandchildren, and so on. Finally, when the door prize was awarded, Patsy Aldridge drew her own name. Everyone howled. To Amy: Dear, your father was a beloved member of the 1959 graduating class. In school, he was called Gus and I don't think he ever escaped it. He was born, I think, in November, 1941. That may not be right, but it seems like it is. His mother was a second grade teacher at Sixth Ward School (now a parking lot on Broadway St.) for years and years. She did not teach us, having started there the year we went into the third grade. She was just a lovely person. As I was celebrating my fiftieth reunion, my daughter, Laura, was celebrating her twentieth. Sort of a neat coincidence. On Monday morning, a group of classmates, including Jimmy Hart, came to my house to help return tables and chairs borrowed for the Friday evening gathering. He reached down to pat my dog, Earl, and Earl bit Jimmy on the arm, tearing skin and causing a lot of bleeding. We put peroxide on the wound and covered it with two large band-aids. We took the tables and chairs back, and all the while, I was absolutely dreading what I knew I had to do. After lunch, I took Earl to the vet and asked that he be put to sleep. The process is burned into my mind. Earl and I were taken to a small room that has a chair and a stool. A staff member came in and took Earl to, one, give him a calming shot and, two, to insert a IV in his front leg. When that was done, they brought him back to me and I held him on my lap. Dr. Biddle, son of Bob Biddle came in, explained what he was going to do, and with tremendous empathy, said he would wait as long as I wanted. The shot they had given Earl had made him sleepy so that he wasn't struggling or scared; he just had his head down on my leg, lying there. Finally, I nodded and Dr. Biddle inserted the needle in the IV receptacle. Earl never moved and died almost instantaneously. I cried uncontrolably. This was the second time I had been through this. The first time was with my dog Sam. My children gave Sam to me for my birthday in 1995 and he lived with us until 2008. He was a wonderful little dog and my wife and I loved him so much that our children got jealous, we think. Anyway, after thirteen years with us, he got to the point where he could barely see and, Dr. Biddle told us, that his heart was very weak. We always went for a morning walk, and toward the end, he would walk very slowly and without any sign of the pep which had so characterized his life. And so, we finally decided that the kindest thing to do for Sam was to let him go. Under those circumstances, euthanasia for pets is wonderful, because there is no pain or fear. Anyway, when Sam died, we got another dog, whose name is Fred. Fred is a good dog, but he's not the brightest pooch on the planet. He did want me to play with him all the time, and so I thought it would be a good idea to get him a canine playmate, which met with some serious opposition in the hosuehold. Nevertheless, I found a dog on line in a shelter in Dayton, Ohio, and in almost no time, Earl was residing with us. Really cute, scruffy dog, resembling the terrier breed. You can tell, their noses and mouths are a little long for the rest of their body. Earl loved to jump off the ground while walking or standing by your side, and he would usually give you a playful little nip with his teeth. It never hurt and you knew he didn't intend it to hurt. After I got used to this, I happened to look in the dictionary or on-line for a definition of a terrier dog. It said terriers are frequently small dogs, used for routing out rodents like rats and other vermin. The dogs are fiesty and fearless. This certainly was Earl's mantra; he wasn't afraid of anything, nothing! And he greeted everyone who came to the house with a fierce barrage of barking and jumping and had the poor laundry man scared out of his wits. Earl finally made up with him, but he never failed to announce his arrival. Thinking about it, it may have been an accident that Earl hurt Jim, but you cannot have a dog who reacts and injures another person. You just can't do it. I am incredibly sad about Earl and will miss him for a very long time. Pardon all this stuff. I just thought I'd tell you why I haven't been here in the past few days. Fred is Ok, but I think he's lonesome.