Don't Forget The Tissues

I think the bed pulled on us all this morning, even I struggled to get up, although two dogs weighing me down didn't help. Daughter, who in the last year has gone from being sheer hell to get up to being probably the best in the family at rising in the mornings, also seemed to struggle. Well, a little, she wasn't in danger of being overtaken by Son or anything.

The dogs get a good report off L, even MD, well apart from chasing some moorhens off the university. I'm sure they had no right to be there, so he was more than entitled to tell them so.

It's a nice spring morning with no wind, so it's a good day to cycle. My legs though say 'take it easy', so when I keep catching a chap who's very slow going uphill, I stay behind him. I'm in no mood or shape for a race this morning and his speed across the flat is quite impressive. That said to my delight I see him again on the way home and this time I have him. In the process I chip another 20 seconds comes off my PB. Wow.

L gets in her 300 calories worth at the gym or a pizza slices worth according to the Daily Mail. The Mail in their wisdom have printed an article entitled 'Going to the gym could make you fat'. Hmmm, a bit of balance might have been in order. How many Daily Mail readers will now be scoffing biscuits in front of the TV tonight, thinking 'thank goodness I didn't go to the gym'.

After a brisk half an hour on the park we head down to the Showcase cinema, where oddly (but we're not complaining) they seem to be running the adverts before the advertised start time.

It's L's fault. It all started when I got the usual pleading 'please take me' email and being the dutiful partner, that I am, I naturally obliged but I should have known better. I should have trusted my natural instinct and stuck with Coen Brothers films, Che double bills or even something with Leonardo DiCaprio in it. Ok, so perhaps that's pushing it.

Now don't get me wrong, 'Marley and Me' is decent enough film and full of doggie humour, but it really should have been given an 18 certificate. It's horrific, it's no cuddly dog story. It's certainly not suitable for young children or even sensitive forty-something's for that matter. It's quite simply the most harrowing film I've seen in years, probably since 'Lassie Come Home'.

But here we are - L, Daughter, myself and even my parents. I bought my Mum the book for Christmas a couple of years ago and I think she liked it. We're always been a doggie family. The film is based on that book which is effectively the memoirs of John Grogan and about how his dog, Marley, influenced his life. The 'plot' is incidental really, yes there are people in it but the only character development that happens or that matters is that of Marley.

John (Owen Wilson) takes the plunge out of the 'dream' life of a single male, that his friend Sebastian prefers, and into wedded life with Jennifer Aniston. Not too bad a plunge when you think about it. Both are journalists and after their wedding they move to Florida. At which point John brings another blonde into his life and in an attempt to short circuit his wife's 'biological clock' buys her a Labrador puppy. They nickname him 'clearance puppy' because he was going cheap for reasons that soon become apparent. Deciding not to call him 'Bob', John christens him 'Marley' instead. For this point onwards their lives are never the same again but if you've a dog owner, you'll know that that would be the case.

As Marley grows up he never he loses his puppy energy and destructive streak. No object is beyond the capabilities of his teeth, which all sounds spookily familiar. Marley proves almost un-trainable and even humps the dog trainer, played by Kathleen Turner and a worryingly accurate reflection of some of the ones I've met. John sums Marley up as the simply the world's worst dog.

He is also there to intrude on their most private moments; although quite how those full wine glasses remained upright I'm not sure. He also embarrasses John when he is house hunting and plunges into the swimming pool. Yep, that happens.



Instead of chucking him in the skip, although at times Aniston is clearly tempted, but like a child, and again there you're tempted, a pet is not someone you give up on because they are hard work. Well not for most of us. In the end, she realizes that Marley is, and always has been, an integral part of the family.



Meanwhile life goes on but Marley remains the constant denominator throughout. They try for kids, at first they miscarry, and then they manage three of them. There is a stabbing in their neighbourhood, so they up sticks and move. John has by now become a successful columnist and bases most of his articles on Marley's antics. I must mention Alan Arkin who is rather good as his editor but enough about the people. This film's about a dog.



So is it a good film? Well probably not. In fact I'm sure it's a lousy movie if you're not a dog owner. Someone without a dog would just see it as a mediocre chick flick with a silly dog in it and if you've seen one Jennifer Aniston romance you've probably seen them all. Perhaps the film doesn't try hard enough to make non-dog lovers love Marley because he's mostly shown destroying something. Us dog owners know that the rest of the time your dog is loyal, adorable and your best friend but not enough of that was shown.

I take the view that it's a memoir and can therefore gloss over the flaws. The problem with this memoir is that having been shown a period in John's life and all of Marley's, I suppose we had to be there to the bitter end. So if you've a dog lover, I warn you that if you go see this film you need to know what you're getting yourself into and don't forget the tissues.



As Marley grew older and his legs started to go, I saw what was coming and I spent the last thirty minutes or so of the film trying to prepare myself for the inevitable. The whole film connected with me on a personal level because it jolted back memories of the three dogs my parents had when I was younger, that I watched grow up, mature and then leave us and of my two back at home.

When the ending finally came it was far harder to take than I had anticipated, partly because it was way too long and emotional. It was absolutely excruciating stuff for any dog owner, who knows that one day he'll be having that final conversation with his best pal on the vet's operating table. As Marley slowly closes his eyes, knowing that his duty to his family is finally done, John tells him 'You're a great dog' and there's not a dry eye in the cinema. I'm sure there were grown men crying out loud or were they all biting on their knuckles, as I was, to muffle the sobs.

In the end it was quite a realistic portrayal of what owning a dog means. I wonder if John got himself another dog and if he didn't, what the hell did he write his columns about?

As the credits roll it's time to regain a little composure and drive home to see our boys. I give Doggo an extra big cuddle, oh and MD as well.