Remembering Charlotte Baker Montgomery

It is strange how sometimes we find ourselves on paths that were foreshadowed by the lives of relatives who came before us and yet who had no direct influence on our lives. One such person for me was my Aunt Charlotte. I knew my parents admired her, but I only saw her once a year, at her annual Christmas Eve party in Nacogdoches, Texas. Those parties ended during my teenage years.

Much later I learned more about her literary career—she wrote many award-winning books for children, especially about animals—and her humanitarian work. In 1950 she founded the Humane Society of Nacogdoches and supported it until her death in 2009 at the age of 99.

And there was also her love of Mexico. She traveled in Mexico during 1936, and in 1940 she lived in Mexico City for six months.

About 20 years ago, after a year living in Guanajuato, I found myself involved in Amigos de los Animales, and one day I suddenly realized that a love for Mexico and a desire to help animals were also a large part of Aunt Charlotte’s life. All this without any conscious intention on my part of following her lead. To be honest, it is still a little spooky.

Toward the end of her life, Aunt Charlotte published a collection of stories and poems that she had never published before. Here is one poem that caught my attention recently that I would like to share:

What Is Life?

“What is life, if full of care
We have no time to stand and stare?"
The poet says; and I agree
In principle, but actually
When I take my dog outside
The idea seems less true than tried.
For I must stand while she reviews
With twitching nose the latest news.
I must stand and sweat or freeze
To let this dog assess the breeze
And analyze, discriminate,
Savor, test, eliminate,
Sort out, choose, discard, debate,
Start, stop, dawdle, hesitate,
Until she's sure she's up-to-date.
Although I grant that smelling's nifty,
My smeller isn't all the snifty; 
So I get miffed, and speak in tones
To stir her contemplative bones;
And she suspends her ecstasies
To ask me, with reproachful eyes,
"O, what is life, if full of miff
One has no time to stand and sniff?"

      —Charlotte Baker Montgomery​