Over the years as I have withered and wintered through life, my affection toward all things geezerly has taken root, sprouted and grown. Like the first dandelion of spring rising up covertly in the outer-most corner of the lower forty then spreading wildfire-like throughout my entire estate, dotting the landscape with yellow until the winter snows arrive, my appreciation for things of age continues to grow in direct correlation to my years on earth. It is an anomaly these days, my appreciation for the ancient. Out with the old and in with the new is the current battle cry. Yet I cannot deny my affection for and curiosity of the wizened and antique.

I speak of the old furniture that true craftsmen created with hours of steady-handed labor; of houses and cabins with hand-turned carvings, wooden fitments and brass inlays; of phones and clocks and trucks that require a crank to get 'em going; and of the ancient books with leather bindings containing cleverly constructed prose. As I have matured, I have also become interested in those living creatures that have battled through life and accumulated a large number of days under their belt.

I heard of a tortoise named Tui Malila that was given to the Tongan royal family by Captain Cook back in 1777. That old boy lived until 1965. I'll save you the math -- that's 188 years! He almost made it as long as Hanako, a koi fish that is said to have lived to be 226 years old. And I recently heard of a Norway Spruce discovered in Sweden: this tree is still kickin' after 9,550 years. If only trees could talk.

There are among us still, some aged old timers, mature and wise. Yet we look past them in our quest for perpetual youth. It is the canine codgers whose wisdom and steady nature gets shoved aside for the exuberance and adorability of the young pup. Who wants the old ones? Their years are spent. They are too slow, too gray, too dang old! Give us the fast, the young, the new. Forget about house-training, chewed up furniture legs and the yap, yap, yapping -- these puppies are just so cute.

Well, I must admit I love the puppies.

They make me smile and teach me patience. But for a tried and true companion who is steady and sure, I'll shop the geriatric section every time. The old dogs are quiet, not wanting to cause a disturbance. They don't aspire to the spotlight like the young pups do. They've been there, done that. Their teeth are too fragile and their paws too feeble, so they forego the chewing and digging so popular among the puppy crowd. They have literally been around the block a time or two, and they know when to keep low and when to stand tall. They've learned that the bathroom is outside, the couch is off limits and the mailman is not an intruder. They'll stay close to you without being an intrusion and they know when to jump in the truck. Neither a hindrance nor burden they'll be. Simply put, you can count on 'em, and that's something to say these days.

They are a breed unto themselves, these moribund hounds, and a better friend you won't quickly find. So when you and yours are shopping this holiday season for a new family addition, spend a few minutes with some old coots. Look over some grizzled and gray muzzles into some cloudy eyes, and I'm sure you'll find a trusted friend 'til the end.