To My "Marleys"

My husband and the kids came home with a special treat for me yesterday: Marley and Me. I've been dying to see this movie since they first started advertising it. I didn't read the book (as it looked like sentimental claptrap), but as soon as I saw the adorable and funny dog in the previews, my defenses crumbled.

I knew how it would (inevitably) end. How can you have a movie about love and loss without the loss, right? Still, I watched it. And laughed. And then (inevitably) I sobbed.

I have been lucky enough to have more than one truly Good Dog in my life. Maxie Dean, the gentle giant (at least, I thought he was a giant until I saw a full-grown Sam). One day we heard weird noises from the kitchen. Some of Max's kibble had rolled under the hutch, and he had wedged his face as close as he could and was trying to HOOVER the stray pieces. Hey, waste not, want not, right?

Bailey Girl, our collie, joined our family when I was a sophomore in high school. She had a game where she'd put her head under a blanket and then nom nom nom her way out. She didn't love to chase balls all the time, but when she was in a frisky mood, if we tossed her a ball, she would prance over (there is no other word for it) and bring it back, so proud of herself. What a good girl.

Bruno. I get tears in my eyes right now thinking of Bruno. Bruno was not just a Good Dog, he was the BEST dog. I have vague memories of Bruno the German Shepherd as a puppy, so dark he would get lost in the shadows. The memories feel vague because Bruno was always there. He joined our family before my younger brother did, and was with us until my senior year of high school. It is impossible to think of my life, my childhood, my parents, my family, without thinking of Bruno.

I have so many Bruno stories: the way he loved Cheese Nips, the way he sat and smiled, the time we went on vacation for a week, and when we got home Bruno climbed in the car and wouldn't get out for 2 hours because he was scared we'd go away again. Bruno loved us, and was loved by us, for his entire life.

Losing Bruno was one of the hardest things in my life. We knew Bruno was old, we knew Bruno sick. In some ways, we were just waiting for him to give us a sign that it was time. We knew for about a week that he was going downhill. I spent every school lunch that week sitting in my car, listening to "Nothing Lasts" by Matthew Sweet and sobbing. I couldn't think about what life would be like after Bruno, because I could barely remember my life before Bruno.

The day he left us, were supposed to go to Connecticut for my aunt's birthday party, but there was no way we could leave Bruno. My dad and brother stayed home to be with him, and my mom and I left to keep the family commitment. When we said goodbye to him that day, there were no illusions. We knew we were saying goodbye for the last time. Sure enough, when we reached our destination, there was a message waiting. Bruno was gone. It was like he waited until we said goodbye to let go. My dad and brother buried him in the backyard, in his favorite shady spot, where he would always be with us.

Now that I am a grown up, with my own family, I have my own dog, Toby (yes, the klepto). My husband and I joke about Toby being half a dog, because he is a quirky individual with a lot of...strange habits. As much as Toby can drive me crazy, he is definitely one of the family. He sleeps in my son's room at night, he is on "cleanup duty" after our kids eat their messy dinner. He lets my son lay on him like a pillow, and he makes he baby laugh by kissing her face. He is truly a Good Dog, and it makes me so happy that my kids will grow up with a good friend, just like Bruno was to my brother and I. Everyone should have a Good Dog in their life.