Maybe its because when I was a small child my favorite toy was a stuffed dog that I named "Talkie Doggie."

That little beige dog with floppy black ears and button eyes was magical to me.

My father, who put me to bed every night, would hold Talkie Doggie in his arms and that dog would tell me stories and talk to me about my day. And Talkie Doggie's head would nod knowingly when I spoke back to him. He was my closest friend and companion. I always had to have him with me when I went to sleep.

Of course, at some point in my development I eventually deduced it was actually my father, talking out of the side of his mouth, who gave Talkie Doggie his voice. And it was my father's finger that made the dog's head nod up and down. But by that point, the realization didn't matter. Because that little stuffed dog had already helped me through my childish heartaches and traumas.

Talkie Doggie was proof that I was loved.

Or maybe my need to say good-bye to Shari Lewis is because of the generation to which I was born. Television, although not in its infancy, was still a toddler while I was growing up. And there was nothing I looked forward to more than Saturday morning cartoons. I feel sorry for the children of today. They will never know what it was like to have not just one, but all three major networks court you.

Sneaking into the den to turn on the TV to watch my favorite Saturday morning shows while my parents were still asleep was about the most wicked thing I could imagine doing. Quick Draw McGraw and his sidekick Babbalooey, Ruff and Ready, Huckleberry Hound, Hekyl and Jekyl, Augie Doggie, and Yogi Bear ruled those early morning hours. Children's cartoons flooding the networks were proof that I was valued in society.

Or maybe it's because of the Hi Fi we listened to records on. It was a large blonde wood behemoth that stood sentry in the corner of the living room. I was never allowed to open the thick tight doors and operate it by myself. But I did have my own little collection of records stored deep in the bowels of the Hi Fi.

Most of them were "golden records" that sold in our local IGA for 29 cents. They included counting songs, The Teddy Bear's Picnic, early 45s by the Beatles ("I Want To Hold Your Hand" and "Eight Days A Week"), and an array of songs by the Sandpipers. Music wafting through my early years was proof that life was supposed to be fun and celebrated.

I guess, in the long run, the reason doesn't matter. Whether because of Talkie Doggie, Saturday morning cartoons, or childhood 45s; several things are true. I will always love stuffed animals, ventriloquists, Saturday morning television, and music.

And I will always love Shari Lewis.

She, more than anyone else on TV, could make me laugh and listen and learn. Lamb Chop, Hush Puppy, and Charlie Horse seemed to be like long lost cousins of Talkie Doggie. And my favorite 45 was of her singing "Tiki-Tiki-Timbo".

I never met her. I never really knew much about her. And I never knew what she did in her private life.

But still, any time she and I crossed paths (usually with me holding a remote control in my hand), she would have my instant and undying attention. She was funny, quick, caring and most of all, humane. She made my childhood all the more special because of her presence.