Friday, January 9, 2009
Marley and Me
We had an outing yesterday. A couple of girlfriends went to see the movie, "Marley and Me". This was no small feat. Laura was venturing out with her walker and wheelchair.
We helped Laura get her walker to her car,the car to the cinema,the wheelchair through the parking garage, then the wheelchair to the front row of the megaplex.....and let's just say, the handicap section is not that great. I had total willpower when it came to the theatre popcorn (4 days of good eating and counting).. and it was good to be out.
It was fun!
I cried my eyes out!
Man, that was a sad movie....I knew it was about a family and the life of a dog, and dogs don't live that long...but I cried none the less. How do vets do it?
In the middle of the movie, the Jennifer Aniston character has just had 2 babies, close together, and her "worst dog in the world' is not helping things. He destroys couches, blinds, makes huge messes, tips her toddler over etc....she begs for her husband to "get rid of that dog!" He takes it to a friends home, and then the dog comes back.
I screamed out in the middle of the movie the same thing, "get rid of that dog!" I could totally relate.
I love dogs.... as long as they don't destroy anything. Poop or pee on my floors. Don't get sick, or do any thing "disgusting." Seriously, I love dogs...I have a little maltese on my lap as I type this.
My sister jokes that we only have 3 year dogs. It's true. At about year three, the puppy who was "so adorable" and "the perfect thing for our family" is totally on my nerves. One wrong move and that dog is out of here. I've given a Millie-dog to my brother, a Stephi dog-to my friend, and a Sierra dog to my cousin. I have also taken a Lucky-dog from my cousin, ....an old English Sheep dog. What a crazy dog!
I would nominate Lucky as "the worst dog in the world." Lucky did not like me. She would obey everything Wayne said. He was the alpha dog .....but not me.
I was definitely the last one on that dog's totem pole.
As I watched this movie, I was taken back in time to when I was pregnant with Addison and Lucky arrived. She was adorable, but very hard to brush and take care of. She would get out of our backyard and chase chickens. For some reason West Bountiful had a lot of chickens at the time....Lucky found every one, and tormented them. We got many a call from the police/dog pound on this issue. ( Wayne actually received a jail sentence because of this, but that's another story) Lucky was an escape artist.... she would be bounding up the street and turning the corner before I would realize she was gone. I would jump into my car, and try to find her. Hours later , she would be back in the backyard, chained up this time, and I would be crying and exhausted in my house, telling Wayne to "get rid of that dog."
I remember one time in particular. It was Christmas break. As a school teacher, Christmas break is long looked forward to, and over much too soon. I was up one morning, stripped and getting in the shower when Wayne called and said he forgot to feed the dog. Oh brother! I grabbed my robe, headed to the basement and scooped up the dog food. Lucky was in the garage at this point. I opened the garage door, leaned out to fill her bowl. Lucky jumped up on me, I lost my balance, the garage door slammed shut, and I was locked out of my own house..in the middle of winter...pregnant sick... and nothing but a thin robe. I was not happy. Lucky was thrilled. She thought I was there to play with her. SO wrong.
I didn't have many neighbors at this point. Ours was the farthest north street and many houses were still going in. I lifted the garage door a little to see if there was anyone outside who could help me, Construction workers every where. I'm in my robe. Not going to happen. I race to the front door...locked...I race back into the garage. No shoes on mind you. I end up sitting in the broken down, gross, mouse infested freezing car and waiting and crying for over an hour.
I ha ted this dog more at that moment than I have ever ha ted anything in my life.
I felt like puking. I was puking! I was freezing!
Finally, I hear a car pull in my drive way and one of my high school students shows up....I crack the garage open again and ask her to call Wayne and tell him to come home and let me in the house.
She does. He does.
I tell Wayne, Lucky is his dog, and I will never feed her again.
Lucky stays. Lucky has 13 puppies-- weird looking puppies -- we wondered if she bred with a chicken. Addison loves Lucky. Lucky loves baby Landon.
Lucky continues to plague me for the next 3 years..
The last straw comes at Christmas time, again. I come home with 2 1/2 year old Addison, and 6 month old Landon to find our Christmas tree destroyed and a cherished Santa's head bit right off.
The boys are crying.
I remember telling Wayne,
"I can't take it! Either the dog or the kids have to go...you choose."
Wayne came home and took Lucky to a "farm."
My nickname from Wayne is "Lucky"- I was "La", then I changed to Lucky. I call Wayne Dr. WooWoo-- but I digress. Maybe he calls me Lucky to remind me of this dog, or maybe he's just lucky to have me. Whatever....Lucky wasn't very lucky...
She won't have a "Marley and Me" movie made after her.