No bones to pick: a rib-tickling testimony for the merits of going meatless.

I await the lawyer's letter: "Dear Mr. Fishell, Recently your dog, Bozo, contacted our office regarding cruel and inhumane treatment . . ." Next a snoopy reporter will hound me until I spill the beans. The following day the headline appears: "Dog Sues Master: Owner's Meatless Diet Misery for Pet." It turns out Bozo has a bone to pick about having no bones to pick.

To these charges I must plead guilty, for I am a vegetarian of the lacto-ovo order. The closest thing to meat in my diet is a T-bean steak, an unhappy state of affairs for a dog that's waited an entire lifetime drooling for a piece of the action. Giving It Up

Meat and I became terminal enemies one summer day at Stone's Family Restaurant.

"May I have your order?" my stone-faced waitress asked shortly after handing me a menu.

"Sure, I'm a last-born!" This witticism met with all the mirth associated with the discovery of a brain tumor. Her pencil still poised for action, I said, "Uh, I'll take a roast beef sandwich and some fries." I leaned in close and added with a wink, "I like 'em extra-greasy!"

A glass of water and placemat trivia quiz later my cuisine arrived. Uttering a hasty blessing, I readied my choppers and hoisted the first half of the sandwich toward its target. But just seconds away from roast beef bliss, my eyes beheld an unsavory redness to the meat. What I clutched in my hands was some rare cooking indeed. As a man committed to a job well done, this concept was hard to digest.

Suddenly repressed thoughts about my eating habits flashed onto the screen of my mind, which is hardly IMAX size, but nevertheless functional. Gone was the sandwich I had ordered moments ago. in stark reality I saw my "Western Super Juicer" for what it really was: slices of dead cow laid in a whole-wheat casket!

Lowering my sandwich to the plate, I knew that I had reached the carnivore's crisis point. I also believed that tofu was the result of a determined entrepreneur's grinding pursuit of finding a profitable use for chalk stubs. Yet it suddenly made good sense to begin beefing up on something other than secondhand muscle and fatty tissue. I no longer had the stomach for such a diet. That day I gave up eating meat -- cold turkey. Foraging for Foodstuffs 

When I first made my meat-deleting decision, locating vegetarian fare at a fast-food restaurant was about as easy as finding fat calories in a celery stick. But now, largely on account of the growing acceptance of such delights as the bean burrito, my years of searching in vain for meatless quick cuisine are over. Now I can wheel up to the drive-through just like one of the regulars. it is difficult to grasp the sense of normalcy this brings unless you have spent many years ordering quarter-pounders "minus the meat," a selection that frequently resulted in the immediate scheduling of a hearing test for the associate taking the order.

Beyond the borders of fast-frijole joints, great-tasting vegetarian options are growing daily. Cautionary Tails

Vegetarian ranks have been growing for years, its proponents sometimes surprising in their professional and social stature. Sylvester Graham, inventor of the cracker bearing his name, urged that parents not place before their children "the mangled corpses of slain animals." I like this subtle approach.

Still more to the point, it seems that cows and oinkers alike must know something about a healthy diet. How often do you see them chowing down on hamburgers or pork chops? No, instead they go straight for the alfalfa sprouts and grain mix.

Unfortunately, the "You gotta eat meat for protein" myth is alive and well. When my neighbor discovered that a whole clan of veggie-types lived next door, he voiced his concern. "Sure hope your young'uns are takin' vitamins," he scolded. "Cain't grow strong without meat."

I refrained from pointing out that his perspective was not shared by numerous champion athletes, not to mention elephants. Help on the Way

Allow me to provide some suggestions for those whom I, or someone with credibility, have persuaded to adopt a vegetarian lifestyle.

Embrace the selfless soybean. Along with a wide array of delectable fruits and vegetables, some vegetarians find TVP products helpful in filling their meatless void. For the uninitiated, TVP refers to "textured vegetable protein."

The staple product for TVP is the soybean. in the field of nonmeat protein, the soybean stands alone. This illustrious legume is to the vegetarian food industry what duct tape is to do-it-yourselfers -- its uses are virtually endless. The soybean has given itself over to being whipped, pressed down, and mashed into an astonishing variety of tasty meatlike products.

Since its inception, producers have striven to make their products appear and taste like the real thing. The goal is to help individuals smooth the transition from meat to healthier alternatives. Accordingly, these food items are sometimes referred to as weaners, though not too often.

Be wise and beware at potlucks.

"This combination is absolutely scrumptious!"

Why, thank you! I got the recipe from the cookbook Soybean Surprises and Duct Tape Stews."

Should you overhear such an after-church exchange, you may wish to avoid the dish under discussion, including what's in it. That is, of course, unless it is already too late, by which time you will feel as if your intestinal tract has recently been repaired by a do-it-yourselfer. Fortunately, from personal experience I can tell you that the typical vegetarian potluck is far more a taste bud utopia than a laboratory for sinister TVP experiments. Back to the Basics

The bold truth is that I have never regretted my choice to become a vegetarian. Today's meat-free alternatives are just too good. But you know what I like best about the meatless meal deal? I think it's closer to what God intended from the start: "I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food" (Genesis 1:29).

Sure, our sinful world is hardly a paradise anymore. But I figure God must've had some pretty healthy reasons for not prescribing an original diet requiring the services of a butcher shop. No, God doesn't love vegetarians best -- He simply wants His Holy Spirit's temple, our bodies, to stay in good repair. Going meatless helps accomplish that worthy goal. Call it preventive maintenance.

Hey, I've gotta go chow down. Vegetable lasagna this evening. Another bad night for Bozo.

Maybe I'll see you in the produce section sometime, where we'll finally have a chance to not meat.