I'm not usually inspired to write deep things for consumption in cyberspace but last night I watched the movie "Marley and Me" on HBO. Hey, it was free and I hadn't seen the movie. The synopsis is primarly about a young couple who hope to delay the start of their family by adopting a dog, in this case Marley who is a labrador, golden to be exact. The movie focuses on the struggles of training this seemingly unruly dog, but its main focus is the struggle this couple is having with their marriage and eventual three kids. Unlike most movies the characteristics of this family are quite typical and very believable; all the while dealing with the antics of Marley.
The husband, a newspaper man, ends up writing a regular column about his life, family and of course the antics of Marley. He is doing well, even if he doesn't believe it himself; everyone can sense it but himself. Anyway, the movie continues to revolve around the family.
This is where most people would continue to see the importance, or relevance of the family's plight and fight to suceed; but I really want to focus on the dealings with the dog, who continues to age, not always well, in the movie.
The kids are growing and Marley is aging, living a happy adult dog life, but you can see he is beginning to fail. He still has his moments of goofiness and never fails to have the last word in most situations. Nearing the end Marley's health is failing and the family now must cope with the possibilities that lie in the future. As predicted Marley needs to be put down, and the family sadly loads Marley into the back of their car so dad can take him to the vet. Everyone is sad and crying, but does get to say their final farewells.
Dad is with Marley in the vets room and he quietly tells Marley of his love and success, the joy and laughter he has brought to the family. Marley receives his final injection and dies peacefully on the table, in the arms of the father.
I sat there are cried for the last 40 minutes of this movie as we went through a similar situation this September with our beloved border terrier, Barkley. He had been a member of our family since the kids were little. Unlike Marley he never destroyed car interiors, living room furniture, or knocked out windows or doors in the house. Mind you Barkley was no saint, but certainly not the scoundrel that Marley played in the movie.
This is where I digress a bit, pardon me, but afterall it is *my* blog.
Barkley loved everyone. We used to say that strangers were just friends they Barkley hadn't met yet. He never barked at the mailman, the paperboy, neighbors or their pets; he just wanted to say hi and let's be friends. Being a terrier and small he could handily fit under the dining room table and steal your napkin off your lap, jump up on the back of the sofa and steal a scrunchy out of your hair, or any piece of food that was within jumping reach. He loved to "walk" and that's putting it mildly. He'd pull you most of the way; as long as you covered new territory you got pulled. If you turned around you were headed home and the pace was much more leisurely.
Barkley and I started out in the show ring together. I had fun, Barkley put up with me. There were a few times when we'd be at a dog show and someone would tap me on the shoulder to tell me that my dog was peeing on my pantleg. He did this only to tell the other dogs that I was his owner, and no one elses. Barkley really shined in the dog ring when Rachel, my daughter, would enter him. They always brought the best out in each other and it was shown to all. Rachel "finished" Barkley in about 6 months, not bad to a young lady in her early teens!
Barkley would camp, hated to swim, loved to chase a ball, hated to return it, but always seemed to say "here it is, come and get it and throw it again." Most importantly he loved his family.
This is where I tie my digression back into the movie.... At the end of the movie the dad is stating that dogs are pure love. Regardless of the day you've had, or the day that they have had they love you...no questions, no doubt. This was Barkley! Even towards the end of his life, when he was physically depressed, he never failed to lick your hand or your face, never failed to beg quietly at the dinner table, or sit and cuddle with you on the sofa.
Before he passed I told him (many times) that he had been the best dog ever, he loved us and helped us all to grow; and that his job here was done, he could cross over the rainbow bridge with pride knowing that he had done such a fine job here on earth.
Nick, my son, and I took Barkley to the Michigan Humane Society for his last car ride. He greeted the two workers there with tail wags and excitement to meet two more "friends". Nick carried Barkley to the table and I held him as he quietly went across the bridge to the other side.
Good boy Barkley; we love you too!
