A good judge is dead

I have been in the dumps lately. Summer in the Levison Towers is usually a fun time, with vacations and law clerks lightening my work load. But this year, my steps are a little heavier. A good Judge has left this world. Forgive me, Gentle Reader, if I wallow in my grief a little. Judge became my friend about the time I started writing this column over a decade ago. I saved him from certain death, and he was grateful. Always glad to see me, ever my protector, always happy. Not the typical judge. But this Judge was a dog. I picked Judge, or he picked me, at a shelter when I went to visit a friend in Arkansas. His previous owner had mistreated him, but he didn't hold a grudge against people. The shelter was a dump - no grass in the yard, way too many creatures living in way too little space. His big brown eyes made it impossible to leave him there, and I didn't. Every lawyer wants a friendly Judge, so his name was an easy pick. I laughed when we went for a walk and I picked up when he "made a ruling." I will admit that it was juvenile, but it was hard to be mad at a dog who had an accident when you put it in those terms. When I wasn't going to court or a meeting, he came to the office with me. He waited patiently on the rug while I worked, but each time I got out of my chair, he was at my heel. Usually he just wanted to go outside or to see if someone in the office would pet him. Either way, he was always patient, always friendly. Around November, Judge got old, suddenly and without warning. His runs became trots. Stairs were no longer an option. Our vet warned us that he was sick, but Judge sometimes forgot. On good days, he behaved like his old self. On bad days he just laid around the house. On the last bad day, I cancelled the docket for the morning and took him to the vet one last time. I explained what happened to my opponents afterwards, and they were gracious. I have felt silly grieving the last few weeks. He was just a dog. A dumb animal. In the eyes of the law, dogs are property - their value is almost nothing. Those of us who keep dogs know differently, and that the unwavering loyalty of a dog is priceless. One of the most famous trials in Missouri involved a dog - Old Drum. In 1869, Charles Burden sued a neighbor for killing his prized hound dog. The defendant was Burden's neighbor and brother-in-law. Suing kin in Missouri is never an easy task, and this case dragged on through multiple trials, all the way to the state Supreme Court. Although the verdict was only $50, plaintiff's closing argument and the legacy of Old Drum remain. Senator Vest, Burden's last lawyer, gave a "Eulogy of the Dog" to the gentlemen of the jury and they were moved. According to the Congressional Record, it went: The best friend a man has in the world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter whom he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those who we trust with our happiness and our good name, may become traitors to their faith. The money that a man has he may lose. It flies away from him perhaps when he needs it most�The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is the dog� When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens. If fortune drives the master forth an outcast into the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him, to guard him against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes his master in its embrace and his body is laid in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by his graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws and his eyes sad but open, in alert watchfulness, faithful and true, even unto death. From a trial lawyer's perspective, the closing argument is textbook in that it violates every rule young lawyers are taught. There is no reference to the evidence. There is no mention of the rule of law, or the jury's duty. I am certain an objective commentary would find plenty of fault with this speech. Unfortunately, Gentle Reader, today I cannot. Under Analysis is a nationally syndicated column of the Levison Group. Spencer Farris is the founding partner of The S.E. Farris Law Firm in St. Louis, Missouri. Comments or criticisms about this column may be sent to this newspaper or directly to the Levison Group via e-mail at comments@levisongroup.com. © 2015 Under Analysis L.L.C. Published: Fri, Jul 10, 2015