Three months ago, I wrote this about the film Marley & Me, and swore on my life I wouldn’t see it. It came out on DVD recently and my sister bought it and forced me to watch it. Let’s just say my opinion has changed somewhat.
While I stand by what I said about it being a story I know very well, despite it never having been done in the cinema, I have to say it was worth the watch.
And, hell, did I cry at the end.
The film itself isn’t fantastic. John and Jenny never seem to age much and I found myself angry at John and how easy he found it to get a promotion and find a new house, yet still be ungrateful. Similarly, because the story propels into the future so often, we rarely get the chance to meet the children. By the end I felt their main purpose was just to provide an extra tug on the old heart strings. In short I found it difficult to relate to the characters or find them very appealing, not to mention it being ridiculously easy to spot when a different dog was being used.
In retrospect, I don’t think it was the story of Marley that made me cry at the end, it was just the memories of taking various different dogs of my own to the vet’s to be euthanised.
Ruby, our last dog, wasn’t exactly the best dog in the world, either, and she wore a muzzle into the vet’s office just in case. If I close my eyes I can still picture her cowered in the corner of the room as the vet injected her leg. She was totally disarmed, petrified; she knew exactly what was coming. We were told dogs can often smell their own death, and I’m sure Ruby did. As the last of the tranquilliser was pumped from the syringe, all the tension in her body dropped, she fell to the ground. And her bowls opened. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. But, through the tears, it made us laugh, and if I remember one thing about Ruby in 20 years’ time, it will be that she let out an almighty fart right as she died. What a way to go.
One of my dogs at the moment, Mali (pronounced Marley… coincedence) is not fairing too well. He has had Hip Dysplasia since we got him and that has lead to many other ailments on its own. But we recently discovered that he has developed an ecsma-esque illness with sores all over his face and behind his ears, which means he is often in great discomfort. Unfortunately for him, for us and for his sister, Kiri, euthanasia has long been on the cards, albeit subconciously and unspoken. Marley & Me made me dread the idea of my Mali having to die. And for some reason I feel the need to be there when the dog dies. Maybe it’s a closure thing, I don’t know. So what I fear is that he will die while I’m away in Paris and I won’t be able to say goodbye or to be a part of the decision to send him to sleep.
Anyway, this post wasn’t supposed to turn into a lament, I do apologise. To conclude, I appreciate the film Marley & Me since it’s the first time a story focussing on the life cycle of a dog has been made. I still, however, resent how the author of the original novel is capitalising on the same grief that thousands of people go through every day across the world. Also, I find it difficult to envisage how people who don’t own a dog or have never had to have one put to sleep could enjoy this film.
I’m intrigued. Non-dog owners: did you see this film? Were you affected? If so, how?
Answers on a post card.
Matthew out
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