Movies, Mutts and Musings

I have to warn you. There is a dangerous movie out there. Oh, you think it is going to be pleasant and cute; but watch out! It’s a trap. A friend and I ducked in to see Marley and Me Sunday afternoon. We were looking for some lighthearted entertainment. After all, I decided, each of us has experienced enough drama, let’s just do something mindless. In spite of the neurotic behavior of "The Tedster," I do have a soft spot in my heart for dogs.

It started out lighthearted and fun, as the dog romped on the beach, ate Jennifer Aniston’s necklace and tore up Owen Wilson’s sofa. We were cheerfully forgetting our troubles when Marley suddenly got sick. Then I watched a faithful companion grow too weak to walk, reach the point where treatment was no longer viable and then this dear friend died. Well, somewhere during the death scene I lost it. I returned to the memories of sudden illness, chemo, and hospice. No amount of “fake coughing” could conceal my sobs. It was a bit awkward to be sure.

But after we left the theatre I found myself saying, “My story is better.” I hadn’t experienced the loss of a canine at the end of two hours of entertainment. I was remembering a lifetime of laughs, hopes and sorrows. Today my hope is not in a trip to a pet store to purchase a new puppy, but in the resurrection. And in the confidence that the way we learned to love can yet enrich the lives of others.