My sister is grown now and lives with her husband,teenage daughter,her husband,and on the weekends her step-kids come to visit.Also,her son comes to visit too.Before my sister remarried,she had a dog named Stretch.Stretch was like a clumsier version of Marley.He chewed up furniture,ate things off the table,and of course peed in the house.And on occasion he bit people but that's only when he was mad.But in addition to all of this he was the clumsiest dog on the planet.He ran into walls,knocked over plants,and barked at stuffed animals. Which proved his clumsiness and stupidity.No matter how stupid,clumsy,or misbehaived Stretch was we loved him to death.Sadly because of the peeing all over the house,my sister was forced to give Stretch away.That was probably one of the sadest days of our lives.My sister just couldn't stop crying so she asked my dad my dad to bring Stretch to the local S.P.C.A.Sad enough my dad had to drive me to my friends house so I had to ride in the car with Stretch.I didn't want to be there when my dad gave him away so my dad dropped me off at my friends house first.We will never know what happened to Stretch whether they found a home for him or -it really makes me sad to think of it- if they had to.... put him to sleep.We'll never know and we never want to know.This is our story of Stretch,our Marley.Sorry I don't have a picture,but just to get what he looked like,he has part Boxer,part Pittbull. He mostly looked Boxer though.
Hello John. I'm hoping you get to read this because I feel I have to share the story of my black lab, JoJo. My husband, Steve, and I had only been married for a month and one day, when we were driving in the country, I noticed a sign advertising lab puppies. Steve didn't want to stop but about a mile down the road, I talked him into turning around just so we could look at the puppies. When we got there, the breeder told us there was only 1 left and he was 4 1/2 months old. When we went to see him in the barn, he was hiding in the corner of his cage and he refused to come over to us. His mother, father, and grandmother were in the cages next to him and they were happy to see us. The breeder told us that he was very timid so no one had picked him. Of course that made me love him even more. The breeder told us he had been calling the dog Joe, for no particular reason. He also told us that he had never been walked on a leash and wasn't housebroken. We decided to buy him and we came back a few days later to pick him up. On the way home, he sat in the backseat like a person -- on his butt with his paws flexed out. The first weekend we had him, he was hesitant to come near anything but he went potty outside and didn't chew anything. We decided to name him JoJo. Steve and I said, "Wow, we have the worlds easiest and calmest dog." Well, we were wrong. Over the next 6 months or so, we went through Hell. He began going potty and throwing up all over the house. Come to find out, he had 4 different types of worms that cost an arm and a leg to treat. He barked in his cage and in the garage but we didn't trust him enough to keep him free all night so we put up with the barking and not sleeping. As soon as we put a leash on him, he suctioned himself to the floor and wouldn't move. Needless to say, walks were out of the question. We decided to take him to PetSmart obedience school because we clearly needed some help. Steve had to carry him in since leashing was not an option. The class became centered around JoJo and his countless faults. However, the class did help because JoJo learned how to sit, stay, lay down, and walk on a leash. It was also nice for him to have some interaction with other dogs. I won't go into specific details about when JoJo decided to chew things but I will give you a list: 6 pairs of my shoes (1 of each pair), my brand new Blackberry (which didn't have insurance), gift cards, greeting cards, coasters, a remote control, plants, towels, mail, etc. I screamed at my husband to get rid of him on several occasions. One weekend, we decided to put him a kennel just because we needed a break. As the months passed, we taught JoJo more and more things and he finally started behaving. Needless to say, JoJo is now the most important and special thing in our lives. I know I don't have to explain to you the feeling we get when we're playing with him, when he's sleeping next to us, when he's licking us, and when we are away from him. He has become the world's greatest dog and I am so glad we didn't get rid of him. We took JoJo to a local dog park one day and this guy asked us if we had ever read "Marley and Me." We both said no and the guy said, "What kind of lab owners are you if you've never read 'Marley and Me?'" Then we saw the movie preview. Steve bought me the book for Christmas and we saw the movie this past weekend. There were moments when we were laughing louder than anyone because we were watching JoJo! I also believe we were crying the hardest at the end. I have never seen Steve cry like that before. We were going to stop at the store after the movie but we rushed home to smother JoJo instead. Thank you for sharing your story and I hope you enjoyed mine.
Wow, it's amazing how so many people have one thing in common.. and that is we all have our very own stories. My story is just about any ordinary dog to you, but to me the love of my life. Whitey was my best friend. We did everything together. When I would go to school I would day dream about her. Now I'm only 11 years old, so I dont really have one of those stories when you come home from work and you see your dog eating of the table or anything, I have a more heart breaking story. Everyday when I come home from school I walk, my mom is at working untill 4PM everyday, and school ends at 2:40PM. When I put my key into the back door and unlock it I usually wait for Whitey to run to the door.. but... Whitey didn't come! I ran inside and checked everywhere. I felt sick. I had this one question in my head. "What if Whitey was dognapped?!' I run outside to check the front but then I see Whitey, floating in my pool! I bursted into tears. I knew Whitey has just left the earth,I knew Whitey was dead. I jump in the pool to see whitey alive! Wow what a miracle! Then I thought "how did she get out here?" I turn around and I see my brother bursting in laughter. Oh, was I mad! I soon was thankful that this was ONLY a a joke, not real. I would of been heart broken if Whitey really did drown. That concludes my story. I would like to say one more thing, John your book was amazing, I loved it.. but come to think of It I should of gotten the childrens one.... BYE
I haven't read your book, yet. I went to the movie just yesterday with my 2 boys ages 10 and 8. I didn't read the book because I knew how it would end (thanks to my sister) and I didn't want to ball my eyes out at the end. I really didn't want to see the movie, either. Here's why: I love dogs....love, love, love them. And I hate sad dog stories. Although, I'm glad I saw this movie and I'm planning to read the book. I've always had dogs growing up - but when I moved out on my own when I was about 23 I got my own dog. An Aussie named Sam. Sam was an unplanned purchase - when I saw him in the pet store I had to have him. I loved him for the 2 short years he was with me, he was hit by a car and I never cried so much in my life. I decided to get another one so 2 weeks later I found a breeder close by and picked out my 2nd Aussie, Jazz who was 7 weeks old. That dog was with me until he was 16 years old. I got married, moved away and had children during those years. I had sad moments when I cried into his neck and it felt like he was my only friend. I trained him, took him every where with me and called him my 1st born. We went through all his stages of life, just like you did with Marley. And when he was so old that he couldn't see or hear well, I knew the end was near. Everyday I hugged that dog and told him how much I loved him. He had a seizure when he was a month short of being 16 years old and I had to make that painful decision to put my own grief aside and do what was best for him.
I watched the movie yesterday and all the memories came back. What an awesome experience. To raise a dog from puppyhood and care for him his entire life and then have to say good-bye when his life is over. Dogs are special, they love unconditionally.
It took me 5 months to talk my husband into getting another dog. He and I were dating when I got Jazz and he helped me pick him out. He remembered (much better than I did)Jazz's puppy stages and all the stuff he destroyed in the process - not to mention his unbelievable energy. After a soccer game one weekend we took the boys to a nearby breeder to pick out a new pup - and walked away with two! Now I remember the puppy stages!!
I have attached a picture of our new pups (Luke and Jake) now just over a year old. My boys didn't have the chance to see Jazz as a pup and raise him up into the great dog he ended up being. Now, they have that chance and they LOVE these two dogs more than anything!
While my husband wasn't thrilled at first to have new puppies, he's so happy we have them. Even after puppy accidents in the new house, holes chewed in drywall, carpeting and throw rugs chewed to bits, and the overall inconvienence of dog hair all over everything we all are thrilled to have these two beasts as part of our family.
Ok, this is crazy, I never write on these things, but I have never wanted to. I know that you are probably so sick of dog stories, I'll bet you guys get a ton. After reading about you new little puppy I just wanted to share a story of our "special puppy". We have a basset hound, General, that is 3 now. When we first got him my cat welcomed him by scratching his eyelid. He bleed for hours & we took him to the vet & they had to put a stitch in it and it still bleed for hours. The vet said that it bleed so much because it was so close to his eye. About a month or so later he started teething. He also started bleeding from the mouth a lot. Definately more than the little bit of blood you might see on a dog toy when a puppy is teething. It would flow out of his mouth, it was comming from his gums. There was blood all over my home, I joked that it looked like a horror movie. No vet could seem to figure out what was wrong with him. Finally after he spent a very expensive night at the U of Penn Vet Hosp in Phila, we were told that he had a rare blood disorder. Kind of like a hemophilia and he does not clot correctly. It seemed to take forever and countless visits to the vet but we finally got through teething. We thought all was wonderful until we noticed that he was limping alot. Back to the vet.... they said that his bones were not growing correctly and that the only thing that they could do would be to operate on his little legs. But the vet didn't think it was a good idea because of his blood disorder and he said that it was very expensive and very invasive. The vet gave him pain pills and said that we should just make him comfortable till it got to be too much. I cried so much that day. I thought how can this be? How can he have come so far only to be told that he eventually would not make it? There were times that first year when we thought .... we can't do this, he cost us so much money that we didn't exactly have at the time. We even contacted a rescue and asked them to take him. But when it came down to it, we just couldn't give him up. We made it through teething and after many vet visits and one visit with a blood specialist at U of P we finally found a medicine that helps him clot when he bleeds. It is very expensive for a tiny little bit, but he is worth it. He cannot ever have any hard bones, go to dog parks, (if another dog bit him he could bleed to death), we could not get him neutered, which means he is a little bit of a wild child, and we can never find any boarding for him at the doggie hotels because they do not want to be responsible for him, but we don't care about any of that. Also, it turns out that the vet was so wrong, his little bones look a little strange but he no longer limps at all, he loves to run with his sister in the back yard. He is such a great dog. I work from home and he never leaves my side. He loves to howl with my husband (don't ask) and his sister Dixie (my other basset hound). Believe it or not he still loves the cat who scratched him. He gets away with everything because during that first year we didn't exactly discipline him enough because we were so worried about him all of the time. He is the loudest dog I have ever heard. We went to PetSmart to have his picture taken with Santa (yeah, I know I'm crazy!!!) and the trainer from PetSmart came over to him because he was barking so loud, and kept telling him to "sit" and "no". He responded by barking even louder and jumping up on her and trying to lick her. He is the only doggie I know that has his own gold card for all of his health issues that pop up from time to time. After my husband and I saw your movie, we were talking about how glad we are that we didn't give up on him. Everyone we know thought that we were crazy to spend so much money on him, and didn't think that he would have any kind of life. But he has a great life!!! He is ok for the most part now, and is spoiled rotten!!! He has added so much to our lives. He was and is worth every penny we spent on him. So, good luck with your new little puppy, it may be alot to deal with but as you know, it is so worth it!!! I have 2 dogs. General and Dixie. (General is the one up top in the picture) I love them both so much, they are my "babies" I don't have kids and I am truly one of those crazy dog people. One more thing, I loved the book and the movie!!!!
SNIEGA ISIN’T SUCH A GOOD DOG AS WAS YOUR MARLEY (AS I UNDERSTOOD HE WAS SILLY BUT HE LOVED YOU AND ALL YOUR FAMILY). NEGA IS DIFFERENT… SHE HAS NEVER GIVEN ME A WET KISS, SHE IS ALWAYS BARKING WHEN WE LEAVE HER AT HOME ALONE, THAT IS WAY WE HAVE TO TAKE HER WITH US EVERY TIME WE LEAVE, SHE DOESN’T LIKE WHEN I WANT TO STROKE HER, SHE IS ALWAYS JUMPING AND BARKING ON OUR GUESTS, SHE COMES TO ME WHEN SHE WANTS BUT NOT WHEN I CALL HER AND SHE IS VERY JEALOUS… MAYBE SHE LOVES US BUT IN HER ONE WAY… BUT DESPITE THESE FACTS WE LOVE HER VERY MUCH, SHE IS THE BEST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN IN OUR LIFE… “MARLEY & ME” IS THE BEST BOOK I HAVE EVER READ. I READ IT IN ONE DAY AND I CRIED A LOT… AS I SAID MY DOG’S NAME IS SNIEGA (IN ENGLISH IT MEANS SNOW. SNIEGA IS A TRANSLATION FROM MY NATIVE LITHUANIAN LANGUAGE). MY MOTHER CALLED HER SNIEGA BECAUSE SHE IS WHITE AS SNOW. I PAIED FOR HER 2 LITAS (IT WOULD BE LESS THAN 1 DOLLAR), HER MOTHER IS A WOLF AND FATHER A WOLFDOG. SNIEGA IS MY FIRST DOG AND WHEN WE TOOK HER I DIDIN’T REALISED THAT IT WOULD TAKE SO MUCH EFFORTS TO LOOK AFTER THIS PUPPY, SO ONE DAY WHEN SHE WAS 2 MONTH OLD I DECIDED TO GIVE HER TO MY FRIEND. IT WAS THE BIGGEST MISTAKE THAT I HAD EVER DONE. WHEN I GAVE HER I CRIED EVERY DAY BECAUSE SHE WAS A PART OF MY LIFE, SO AFTER ONE WEEK I DECIDED TO BRING HER BACK AND I DID IT. THE FRIEND GAVE HER BACK TO ME AND I AM VERY GRATEFUL FOR HIM.
As a former foster home for Great Dane Rescue of N. TX, I have had the chance to care for a variety of Marleys! Many dogs when they first come into rescue need "adjustment" to living indoors. Needless to say, I related to MANY of your Marley stories. One Dane, Pita Pie (Pita stood for Pain In The A
) had a SEVERE thunderstorm anxiety and yes, blinds ripped down, solid wood doors carved in, new chair cushions shredded, etc. I finally adopted her as my own after she was returned to rescue 3 times. I still get weather alerts on my phone and even though she has been gone 6 years, feel like I need to rush home to slip her a sedative. Another "Marley" was Mary Kate (pictured in one of her deep sleeps). She was a POG (Pig/Dog). She was deaf and I think it must have increased her other senses. She could hunt down food and eat it stealth-like. She ate an entire loaf of garlic bread (her burp in my sleeping face gave her away), and a full plate of individually saran-wrapped gooey butter bars...only thing left was the plate she carried through the two doggie doors to the back-yard. In spite of ALL the material things I have lost, and messes I have had to clean up, I wouldn't trade it for the world. The love on a dog is truly priceless. Thanks for sharing your story with the world.A story from Darlene about Sir Tug!
posted 12/29/2008
A story from Darlene about Sir Tug!
posted 12/29/2008
A story from Heather about Marley & Me Movie
posted 12/29/2008
Can someone tell me what part of the movie John Grogan appeared in? I knew he was in it before I saw the movie, but once I got wrapped up in the movie, I forgot to look for him. Thanks!
A story from Kelly about my dog winnie
posted 12/29/2008
The book and the movie made me cry. I had a dog like Marley her name is winnie and she is a Miniature Dachshund i got her when i was little but on my 17th birthday i had to put her down because she had cancer. well i hope you get to read this.
A story from Chrissy about My April
posted 12/29/2008
I recently read Marley @ Me and the description of Marley aging brought tears to my eyes. I literally cried for the last 40 pages with my faithful yellow lab April right beside me. She is 13 years old and I don't know how many days I am going to have with her. She can see and hear very well but she her age is for sure catching up with her. This book really hit home. I went to see the movie and it was like seeing my beloved April on the screen. Its a wonderful book and a wonderful movie. Yes it is sad but so beautiful thank you for writing it. You put into words what every dog owner will ultimatley go through. But boy isn't it worth it. There is nothing like a dog!
A story from Marvel Williamson about Our Chloe "Enjoying" the book "Marley and Me"
posted 12/29/2008
We are dog-sitting our son's yellow Labrador retriever while he is going to graduate school in Ireland for a year. Her name is Chloe, and she is one year old, still definitely a puppy. When we saw the ads for "Marley and Me," I read the book right away. Before my husband could finish it, though, Chloe sneaked it off the coffee table and began "enjoying" it herself. He rescued it only after the back cover had been torn off, the pictures in the middle devoured, a large corner of the whole book chewed through, and the book ripped into three sections. Here are the pictures of sweet Chloe with the book for your enjoyment too. P.S. We liked the movie very much, but the ending was so sad! It made us appreciate Chloe so much. Thanks for sharing your story with the world.
A story from Angie about Our lab
posted 12/29/2008
This is Apollo, as you can see he is a lap dog. He is the most precious thing in the world to us. We went to see Marley & Me, what a great movie. I cried the last 45 minutes and afterwards, I couldn't wait to get home and give Apollo a big hug and kiss. He does drive us nuts, he is always into mischief but we wouldn't have it any other way. While we were watching the movie, I kept telling my husband...isn't that just like Apollo! Can't you see him doing that! It was great. People who have labs understand that they are like little kids, you have to keep your eye on them, and if they get quiet...they are into something for sure!
A story from Sarah about Tess and Marley
posted 12/29/2008
Mr. Grogan, I have to say your piece MARLEY A DOG LIKE NO OTHER is so awesome! My family had a dog a lot like Marley. She was big and loopy, yet faithful and fun. She too, begged for food, and scarfed down her own. Like Marley, when we were at our old house, she had a love for leafpiles. Once she and I shared a chicken patty when Dad wasn't around. It was a sad affair to see her go. she passed away by her favorite spot by the couch. It happened a few months ago, and since I'm only nine, I was very upset. But we still have fond memories of her as you probably do with Marley. Thanks for letting me get my story out. Sarah.
A story from Christine about My Jake
posted 12/29/2008
Hi JOhn, I received Marley and Me for Christmas and I finished it in 2 days. I cried myself to sleep last night thinking about not only your loss of precious Marley, but my loss of my precious Jake. When my husband and I adopted him he only had 3 legs due to a car accident with his previous master who did not survive. He went to a Golden Retirever rescue in Utah and since we had lost our prvious golden Ben, my husband was leary about getting another dog, but when I called the rescue and spoke with Bill Britton he said if my husband didn't want another dog, I should get another husband. He cracked my up, so we drove to Utah to meet Jake. I feel in love at first sight. You would never know he only had 3 legs, he could run and jump and play like the best of them. He would drag me down the hill where we lived when he was on a leash and I looked like I was water skiing. He was a funny and special boy. One time we went camping to Big Sur in No. Calif. and it was when the movie Air Bud came out and all the kids thought Jake was Air Bud the movie star and he pranced around that campground like the king of the world. The hardest day was when we lost him to a heart attack. I will miss him forever, however we now have 2 big hoodlum goldens named Abby and Charles, and they are the love of our lives. But I agree, there is always a "special" dog that touches your heart in a different way.
Thank you for your time and for writing. I am looking forward to seeing the movie.
Blessing to you and your family.
A story from Julie about about Jade
posted 12/29/2008
After just reading your book, thinking our Jade was bad, she looks like a saint compared to Marley. Jade, rescued at 6 months, now 5 yrs. was high strung, had separation anxiety, and scared of everyone. She has come along way in spite of a few left over bad habits. But she will continue to hold our hearts hostage for many more years. She and our 4 cats!!
Not only has Jade brought us through rough trials and tribulations, but so has our son, now 22 and still, we pray for him to settle down as well. As christians, our faith in Christ has gotten us though many of the storms in life. Your book has encouraged me to try to laugh more through all life's ups and downs. Your book, along with God's grace, fortifies that no matter how much family and pets can be a pain, you love them unconditionally!! Thank You for the little light of joy during the reading of your book. I can't wait to share it with other family and friends. I also look forward to the movie with a box of tissue at hand!!!
A story from Becky Hoffmann about My Marley(Maddie)
posted 12/29/2008
I am sitting here reading all of these stories as the tears pour down my face and remembering my beloved black lab, Maddie or Mad Dog as we referred to her often. She was my little girl and my only little girl I have every had. I have two wonderful boys and until recently Maddie my little girl with fur. She was very trying as a puppy and destroyed everything in her path, ate everything and enjoyed the you know what out of socks. She used to take the little tiny socks of of my boys infant feet and walk around with them in her mouth just barely hanging out of the corner of her big jaws. Fascinatingly funny she was and beautifully mischevious. I couldn't stay mad at her for long, not even when we came home from a family outing all hungry for leftover meatloaf sandwiches, only to find that Maddie had eaten every last bit of meatloaf and whatever else side item she could find in the fridge. Entertaining she was and I will never forget her ever. When I had to put her down, because of her severe illness, I held her until the last breath and told her in her ear that "Mommy loves you and she could go and keep a place warm for me because someday I would be with her again. I truly believe that these special creatures are sent to us for reasons that we need at the time and they will be with us again someday. God Bless all of those special creatures in everyones life, Marley and Maddie, because they sure blessed me and my family. Thank you so much for your book and the movie-wow what an awesome adventure. Becky Hoffmann
A story from Ann about Thor
posted 12/29/2008
I don't have apicture to share because I am a bit of a computer idiot. AS I lay there last night with my german shepard, Thor sleeping next to me, I finished Marley & Me. I know I am probably the last person on earth to read this book. I lay there crying my eyes out and hugging tightly onto Thor and realizing that other people also have these dogs that are "hard to control" as the trainer I went to a few times called him. He actually broke my finger during a training night when a yippy little white dog had finally broken the little amount of patience Thor has in him. I just wanted to thank you for letting me realize that although my dog is not the best behaved, I would not know what to do without him. He is probably the only living thing t hat knows all my secrets. I do thank god every day that he cannot repeat my words to anybody.
A story from Tania Findlay about Otis the black lab
posted 12/29/2008
When I was 21 my then fiance 24 we bought a black lab whom we named Otis. That dog like Marley has been a part of our life for 12 and a half years. Today I read the book in one sitting, 29/12/08. It broke my heart because it was all so familiar the naughty whining puppy brought into the bedroom just so we could sleep, raising 3 kids well four if you include the lab! Chewing up shoes, the sofa and pulling a double mattress off of the bed at 6 months old. Now the tired old joints,being able to walk into a room and crash about but otis is still obliviously snoozing deaf as a post moulting fur, a racking cough but still giving unconditional love, always pleased to see us and following us around the house all the time. I cried and cried because I cannot put off the inevitable. I tell my tired old lab I love him every day. I cannot imagine life without him, but know that I must. I love you Otis. Thank you John, for sharing this story in some strange way it will help and bring comfort when the end eventually comes.
A story from DONNA about BUDDY
posted 12/29/2008
I HAVE A 3 YEAR OLD YELLOW LAB, NAMED BUDDY. BACK TRACK TO JULY 2006, OUR BELOVED 10 YEAR OLD BLACK LAB MIX SHADOW DIED FROM CANCER. HE WAS THE BEST DOG IN THE WORLD, NEVER CHEWED, NEVER RAN, NEVER JUMPED, NEVER BARKED UNLESS REALLY NECESSARY, WAS JUST THE MOST GENTLE BEST DOG IN THE WORLD. AUGUST 2006, MY HUSBAND AND OUR 5 KIDS, STILL DEVASTATED, WERE BEING TOLD GET ANOTHER DOG, TAKE YOUR MIND OFF IT, ETC. I TOOK A LOOK AT A RESCUE SITE AND SAW THIS ADORABLE YELLOW LAB, THE SPITTING IMAGE OF MARLEY ON THE COVER OF THE BOOK. WE TOOK HIM IN, OMG, TALK ABOUT TOTAL OPPOSITES, HE IS NOW 120LBS. I GOT BREAST CANCER IN NOVEMBER OF 2006, AND I CAN NOT TELL YOU HOW MANY TIMES THE PUP, PULLED ME OFF THE CHAIR, SENT ME FLYING ACROSS THE ROOM, NEVER INTENTIONAL, JUST OUT OF EXCITMENT. WE TOOK HIM TO TRAINING , THOUGH HE WAS NOT THROWN OUT, HE WAS SENT OFF TO THE CORNER AWAY FROM THE OTHER DOGS, BECAUSE HE NEEDED "MORE WORK". HE WILL NOW BE THREE IN FEBRUARY, THE STORIES I COULD TELL. I DON'T BELIVE THERE IS ENOUGH ROOM, THOUGH HE IS A DIFFERENT DOG, WE LOVE HIM AND HE HAS WORMED HIS WAY IN TO OUR AFFECTIONS, AND IS ALSO A PART OF OUR FAMILY.
A story from elaine frederick about luci
posted 12/29/2008
Dear Mr Grogan,
I just wanted to say thank you for the lovely movie that my son Nico and I were so lucky to see. To start with you, Nico is an 18 year old college freshman,He eventually intends to become a special education teacher. I sa eventually because he is a student who was never supposed to be able to do anything. He is a brain cancer surviver of sixteen years. I wanted to tell you about his dog Luci. She was a beautiful golden retriever/chow mix believe it or not. She looked all golden except for when she went to liick your face, which she did often.A totally black tongue. Luci came to us at the age of four months and was not an instant hit. A bigger pain in the butt, you could not imagine. She was all people, Luci was. I do not think she would know how to be a dog if she tried,until one memorable day. She came the day before Nico was diagnosed so she did not get to spend time with her "boy". When we brought him home from the hospital with no hair and bandages and not feeling at all well she did what Nico's brothers could not. She sat there in front of him and stared until he smiled. After that they were constant companions.One day when Nico had finally learned to walk at the age of wo and a half, he had opened the downstairs door and toddled outside. Decenber in Connecticut was quite cold and this was no exception, had two feet of snow on the ground. Nico somehow got into the middle of the road when out came Luci. In the road with traffic blaring but stopped she sat down with Nico with his diaper in her mouth and started barking. She had never barked before that day. We were outside in two seconds but in that time everyone had gotten out of their cars and were clapping. That day we knew that Nico would be ok and recover. With luci by his side. We lost Luci at the ripe old age of fourteen as she fell asleep with Nico as usual and passed away on Valentines Day. She is missed by our whole family. And The day Nico graduated from high school with honors he said two words to me. For Luci. And he smiled.
A story from elaine frederick about luci
posted 12/29/2008
Dear Mr Grogan,
I just wanted to say thank you for the lovely movie that my son Nico and I were so lucky to see. To start with you, Nico is an 18 year old college freshman,He eventually intends to become a special education teacher. I sa eventually because he is a student who was never supposed to be able to do anything. He is a brain cancer surviver of sixteen years. I wanted to tell you about his dog Luci. She was a beautiful golden retriever/chow mix believe it or not. She looked all golden except for when she went to liick your face, which she did often.A totally black tongue. Luci came to us at the age of four months and was not an instant hit. A bigger pain in the butt, you could not imagine. She was all people, Luci was. I do not think she would know how to be a dog if she tried,until one memorable day. She came the day before Nico was diagnosed so she did not get to spend time with her "boy". When we brought him home from the hospital with no hair and bandages and not feeling at all well she did what Nico's brothers could not. She sat there in front of him and stared until he smiled. After that they were constant companions.One day when Nico had finally learned to walk at the age of wo and a half, he had opened the downstairs door and toddled outside. Decenber in Connecticut was quite cold and this was no exception, had two feet of snow on the ground. Nico somehow got into the middle of the road when out came Luci. In the road with traffic blaring but stopped she sat down with Nico with his diaper in her mouth and started barking. She had never barked before that day. We were outside in two seconds but in that time everyone had gotten out of their cars and were clapping. That day we knew that Nico would be ok and recover. With luci by his side. We lost Luci at the ripe old age of fourteen as she fell asleep with Nico as usual and passed away on Valentines Day. She is missed by our whole family. And The day Nico graduated from high school with honors he said two words to me. For Luci. And he smiled.
A story from Shannon Ahner about Marley and Me "The Movie"
posted 12/29/2008
I loved the movie..What a tear jerker. I have the book and I couldnt wait to see the movie even sent in my info for an extra on the set. We had 11 family members watching on the 26th and believe it or not as I sat there with the tissue in hand ready for the first tear to fall, my husband was the one who I handed the tissue to. We all fell in love with Marley, your family and the movie made us all come home and find more room in our hearts to love our dogs more! Thank you for sharing your life with us and making dog lovers everywhere appreciate what they have for such a short time. $37 million is OUTSTANDING for one weekend. GREAT JOB!!!!!! Keep writing and I will keep reading. I cant wait to read about your new dog with the medical conditions and how he will change your life for the next 10 years! Thank you!!
A story from Yvonne about My Roo
posted 12/29/2008
My best friend passed on December 19 2008. Arrow was more than a dog and we used to joke he was my daughter's brother from another mother. He was my shadow, constant companion, and a dog with a mind of his own.
Back in 96 we had a string of misfortunes with dogs. On a whim my daughter and I decided to visit a pet store. There was a litter of pups and the store owner knew he had us. I told him I was going to pick up my husband and be back. When we came back, the owner brought the puppies out on to the floor. I was in love with a female but then something happened. My shoe started to feel wet.Looking down, there was this roly poly male pup peeing on my foot. I put the female down and the male scampered over to my daughter and started chewing on her shoe lace. My husband had him picked because of his unique coloring. He was a shepard, boxer and rotti mix. Legs of a boxer, head of a rotti with the nose and coloring of a shepard. On his back he had a coloring that stood out like a black Arrow head. WE know the owner already had us buying the dog and yes we did.He grew into a huge boy very quickly Arrow was a hand ful and my daughter being 4 at the time, found a new partner in crime. They would wrestle and play and one time the dog yelped. When we asked Saz what happened, she said calmly, he bit me so I bit him back. He was your typical puppy that would chew on anything but his style was not any shoes. He stole underwear, a retainer for my mouth, tools from the workshop, he chewed my hearing aid but spit it out. Over the years, Arrow became my partner because I was out of work. He would snort in my face to be let out,or if I was sitting at the table he would scoot his head between my elbow and table as if to say. pet me now. He used to do what we knick named the Cha cha rumba. He would lay on his back and wiggle. Sometimes he wiggle his way out of a room. He put up with alot from us, painted nails, clothes and a halloween costume of a dalmation. He hated cameras, storms, loved chinese food, easter eggs still in the shell, and we always treated him to left overs. My father would come once a week and we would tell Arrow..Candy man is coming and he would bark and spin.He also started recognizing the scent of different store bags. Two of them meant a bone. If we forgot we would have to grab something quick and pretend we bought it. He had so many knicknames, Roo from me, Buddy from my husband, and wooster from Saz. We had 12 wonderful years from this loving devoted animal. In early November of this year, we noticed what we had feared since his first visit to the vets. The vets said that the breeds of dogs Arrows parents were should not have bred at all. Arrow had hip Dysplcia(?) and it became very bad. In fact reading the end chapter of Marley and me was exactly what we went through. The not coming in, scared of the stairs, crying in pain and the fact that he could not make it up the stairs to our "living" level. We carried him in a blanket on Dec18 night so he could be near us.My husband took him outside before work not thinking that the dog would not go up the stairs. WE made his bed on the landing. Around 8 am Arrow started breathing strange and it had been almost 24 hours with no food and snow that he had eaten. My family had made the decision of taking him that night to the vet so when my daughter was leaving for school she hugged him and cried and also noticed that Arrows tongue had turn a horrible white shade. My daughter and I have a typical teen, mom relationship which always confused Arrow. He would hide so he didn't have to hear the arguing. On Dec 19, My Daughter hugged me and we both cried and said we love each other. This was in Arrows presence. Sarah (Saz) left and I started to spoon little drops of water and snow into his mouth all the while saying that we would be fine and if he had to leave, we would always love him. I actually do not remember much details except that it seemed like his body was stretched and his head arched back. Then he slumped against the door, still breathing but barely. Then the breathing stopped. I cried and cried, called my husband who inturn picked up my daughter from school. During this, I must of went on auto. I cleaned up his urine and soiled blanket. I gathered his favourite blankets, toys, leash and snacks. When my husband came in, Arrow had his eyes closed. My husband and daughter lost it and then all three of us cried. We ended up burying him at home in the middle of a snowstorm. Christmas was just a blur and I still cry. Today, Dec29, my husband finished his shower and said that something freaked him out. He could smell Arrow as if Arrow was in the room. An hour later i went in the bathroom and I could smell it. My nieces and daughter could smell the dog smell from the door. Not unpleasant but our Arrows smell. I feel alot of comfort since this happened. I had been questioning every thing and crying on and off but I now feel a sense of peace. I am thankful to God for allowing Arrow to pass in his bed, around his beloved toys and biscuits, and knowing that we loved him. It is a hard lesson of life, the letting go. Arrow was indeed my son, Sarahs brother and our best friend. The pic is Sarah and Arrow
A story from Chris Shearer about The picture says it all!
posted 12/29/2008
Jax at two years old...11/01/08
A story from Chris Shearer about Jax
posted 12/29/2008
Our lovely German Shepherd Jax! I wrote a long narrative about Jax and how he has terrorized us these passed two years but it got erased at the last second. So just enjoy the picture. This is where he like to sit on hot summer days.
A story from Pat Cawley about Casey - our Chocolate Lab
posted 12/29/2008
I just finished reading your fabulous book "Marley&Me" and I had to let you know how deeply this story touched me. I laughed so hard that my tears prevented me from reading and the moments that tugged at my heart were wrenching. You see, you had a clone of our dog, Casey, a dopey, hysterically funny, clumsy lump of love that gave us 14 years of the most precious memories any family could ever dream of. Like you, after years of begging from my son Matthew to get a puppy I had a moment of weakness and said those fatal words "Okay, you win". Through friends, into our lives came this skinny, wiry little runt of a chocolate ball that was supposed to be my son Matthew's dog, but grabbed all of us by the heart and never let go. Casey got into more trouble so often that when I read how Jenny wanted Marley OUT, I knew exactly how she felt. Needless to say, Casey never went anywhere. We could never figure out how a dog could be so stupid, cunning, happy and loveable all at the same time. Matthew loved that dog so much that he allowed Casey to sleep under the covers with his head on his own pillow. What a sight to see that chocolate head sleeping on a pillow burroghed under the covers next to Matthew (actually, kind of spooky). When I walked into "their" room, Casey would lift up his head as if to say "Oh, we're sleeping in today" and go right back to sleep. We had so many embarassing momments with Casey. Our next door neighbor loved Casey and stopped by to pet him on our front lawn - only to have Casey roll over on his back and pee all over her arm. Talk about mortification! He also had a love thing for my best friend - every time she walked in the door, Casey would run up to her and pee on her shoes! Being of black Irish humor, we all thought that was the funniest thing ever and would be spastic singing "You Do Something To Me" to my friend. Somehow, she loved us anyway. We had an almost identical "dog training" incident with Casey as you - only change was Matthew was the mortified "Master" when the dog trainer tried to show him how to control Casey and our darling Lab rolled over and peed all over his shirt. The black Irish humor got me again and I was howling sitting in the bleachers in the gym watching this fiasco. We never went back!! So you see, your book was a wonderful look back at the life we had with Casey for 14 fabulous years. Years that made this family realize what joy a loving dog can bring and how lucky we were to have had this particular, precious animal in our lives. Thanks for the memories -- we'll read your book many, many times. Pat Cawley
A story from Wanda Lopshire about Puppy Love
posted 12/29/2008
Mr. Grogan, I was a late comer as a reader of Marley & Me, somehow passed by on the list of friends who share books, I had not read your book until I received it from my son for Christmas. I wanted to treasure this special edition with the pictures and read it slowly, savoring the story. Alas, Marley had me and I gobbled it up in two days. While I don't, and haven't really ever had, a true Marley, isn't there a little bit of Marley in all of our dogs? I have had the grief of watching a beloved Golden who couldn't keep his hind end up in the snow either, knowing the time was near to do the right thing. I have certainly had the joy of the unconditional love and laughter brought on by crazy antics of several faithful companions. I simply wanted to write to say thank you, I laughed out loud, cried out loud, sometimes at the same time! I look forward to your new book and wish you all the best for 2009.
A story from Jennifer about Our "Marley" aka Cassie
posted 12/29/2008
Just got home from the movie. WOW...so powerful. I knew we shouldn't go..not yet..but off we went. You see...our Cassie girl is on her last adventure here with us. She is 13 and failing each day due to many ailments. It was so hard to watch the movie...knowing what we know....we are prepared like you were...but never ready. Thanks for sharing a little of you and Marley with us. Blessings
A story from Molly about My Dog
posted 12/29/2008
My dog Windsor is a bad dog. She rips up books and steals shoes. I still love her. She is my little girl and she maybe bad but she can listen good at times. I want to see the movie Marley & Me.
A story from Melinda Fishman about Ruby's Time
posted 12/29/2008
We laughed and cried remembering our girl, who did some major damage in her time but left us with the most wonderful memories. Two years later, we honor her and you for such a great memoir. We loved the book and the movie. Thank you very much.
Ruby’s Time
I learned so much about myself from my dog and now she’s gone. December 19th, three days short of her 15th birthday, the same day my husband turned 51, we put Ruby to sleep. We were not prepared to lose her but when she collapsed and lost control of her bowels, we would not let her suffer. We spent the entire day with her, knowing it was the last time we would look into her eyes, touch her soft fur and feel her love. As I watched her throughout the day, I knew she was done. Her heart didn’t stop beating right away and we doubted the decision for a moment. Was she trying to tell us something? No, our girl just had a big heart. Letting her go was excruciatingly painful. My last few minutes with her are unforgettable and they wash over me as I’m writing now. As hard as it was to witness her leaving us, I knew she knew how much we loved her.
December 20th, I stay home from work and honestly can’t remember what I did all day, other than come up with a plan for our future: Andy and I would raise a guide dog, which would fail the ultimate test and be returned to us. The emptiness the day after Ruby left our life was offset briefly by a delicate white orchid plant from Ruby’s vet Dr. Chapman.
December 21st, I go into the office and everyone is thoughtful and very careful when they talk about Ruby. Everyone thinks I’m going to break but I am comforted by my plan. I tell them I’m going to raise a guide dog so that it will fail its mission. They humor my delusion. I don’t realize that I’m just trying to control what I can’t. Even with a plan, I am devastated. I don’t have to rush home to feed and walk Ruby so I walk from Times Square through Central Park, until I find myself inside a pet store on Lexington Avenue. A woman holds a tiny puppy and laughs when it licks her face. I see a Lab in a cage. No need for concern. I can’t imagine replacing Ruby. I continue home and walk in our apartment knowing she won’t be fast asleep on her pillows piled up at the foot of our bed. I am drawn to her portrait and give her a little kiss. It’s crazy but I don’t really care.
December 25th, Christmas Eve, we participate in the Monday night candle lighting ceremony on Rainbow Bridge, remembering Ruby, her best friend Lucy and all the homeless animals needing families to love them. It’s a wonderful place for support when your guts are hanging out and your heart feels like it’s been crushed in a car crash.
December 26th, day after Christmas, we pass a Ruby Tuesday’s restaurant and decide to honor her memory by eating lunch there for the first time. On the menu is an unexpected delight, an expensive white wine called Conundrum that we love. It’s a sign. When Andy and I get home, we gather all her photos and put them in the photo album we bought before Christmas. We scrutinize the images, remembering the Christmas Eve we were snowed in with our friends and their two Collies and come across a photo of Ruby from the summer and feel grateful the sailboat owner let her cruise with us up the Hudson River.
December 27th, it finally stops raining and Andy and I drive to a nature park called Poet’s Walk, Ruby’s favorite place in the world, where she sniffed and strolled every weekend for the last 6 years of her life. We remember how hard it became for her to walk up the last big hill. It feels good to be outdoors but it isn’t the same without her. We stop at the top of the hill, declare it ‘Ruby’s Black Diamond’ and pretend to wait for her. I think about the agreement we made in August to merge Ruby’s ashes with her best friend Lucy’s, who died of cancer, after almost a year of chemo. After spending every day together for the last 10 years, Lucy was gone and Ruby was alone for most of the day. We knew she wouldn’t last very long.
I ordered grief drops from a New Hampshire farm and started a morning ritual I wish I could experience just one more time. I would lie down next to Ruby, look into her eyes and massage her spine and hind legs. She watched me wondering if I was going to torture her, clean out her ears, blow in her face, annoyingly loving things I did to her. Then when she realized I could be trusted, her eyes would close. I cherished these moments together. They filled me up with love for the entire day. I hope they did the same for her.
December 28th, nine days after we spent our last day with Ruby, we feel her presence. Wistfully, I sense a shadow sweep past our kitchen window, which sends chills down my spine. It’s unseasonably warm weather for Christmas and Andy feels her sitting next to him while he barbeques lamb chops in the backyard, with that hopeful look on her face, willing some meaty goodness is going to come her way.
December 29th, I can’t stop weeping as I read and rewrite Ruby’s Time. We’ve just come home from a merry dinner party and she is not waiting for us at the window we built especially for her. We miss her instantly as we unlock the door. I’m trying to let go of the sadness. When we climb into bed, we allow ourselves to imagine that she’s lying between us, waiting for the perfect moment to plant a kiss on my husband’s chin.
December 30th, I dream about Ruby but she looks like a cross between a Lab and a deer. I am in her body as we come across a deer eating food from our compost. The deer is clearly ill. I’m so grateful to see her again. I experience the happy feeling of coming home from work and seeing her smiling face.
December 31st, I talk to her portrait. We hired a very expensive photographer to take pictures of her two years ago, when she was 12 going on 13. At the time, we wondered if we were schmucks paying more than I care to admit for a photo session; we knew we were self-indulgent. Now we can’t wait to order more copies from the contact sheets. What I confess to Ruby’s portrait is that I want to let go a little bit, shift from depressive weepy to reflective calm; I want to honor her memory and wonderful life. I can’t control my feelings as much as I try. The void is deep and wide. The hole in my heart reminds me of my mother’s death. The pain is not eased by the white chocolate cake I inhale, while my husband is out of the house recording a song he wrote before Ruby’s illness took us by surprise. “Better Than Words Can Ever Say” is a love song written by a man who was afraid of dogs when he met us. How lucky he was to find us. How lucky were we to be found.
January 1st is the first day of the New Year without Ruby. I’m feeling sorry for myself, heartbroken and missing her face and optimism. We were together for such a long time and had such great adventures. I have a dialogue with her in my head. I tell her that the day I found her in the pet store changed the course of my life. I didn’t want a dog until she crawled into my lap and rested her head on my thigh. Something felt so right between us.
January 2nd and I laugh for the first time since her death. I remember how Ruby was indignant when she didn’t get what she wanted. The expression on her face was unmistakable. She let us know she was unhappy and it always made us laugh. Ruby loved like a Lab. She loved dinner parties and licking escargot oil out of the shell. She was also territorial and more than once reared her flawed vicious self to a few of our friend’s dogs, even she and Lucy would occasionally go at it. But most of the time she secured her place under our dining room table, signaling to doggie guests to keep their distance. If scraps fell from above, they were hers.
January 3rd, we pick up Ruby’s ashes at the vet’s office and while she is with us again, I’m really missing my connection to her. I play back the last 24 hours of her life:
December 18th – It’s 5pm and I’m at a Town Hall meeting in the office. I have my cell phone with me because I’m worried about Ruby. When I left the apartment earlier today, I sense something is wrong, despite a trip to the vet last week that resulted in mildly elevated levels in her kidney and liver but nothing really unusual for an old dog. When my phone rings, I don’t recognize the phone number but pick it up quickly and quietly say ‘hello.’ Dr. Chapman, Ruby’s vet, tells me she collapsed on the street and that our dog walker carried her to the office. I run to mine, approving the tests she recommends. I hesitate leaving for about 10 seconds, while I’m listening to our vet, who sounds concerned. Then I grab my coat and rush out the door, hoping to find a cab but wind up on the subway. I leave a message for Andy as I run from 86th Street and Lexington Avenue to the vet’s office at 84th and Third. Our dog walker and her boyfriend sit in the waiting room trying to remain calm. I talk to them for a few minutes until the reality hits me, ‘what the hell am I doing out here, I should be with Ruby.’ In the examining room she’s on her back, looking frightened and very vulnerable. When she sees me, she settles a bit as the vet performs the ultrasound; Ruby does not have cancer but the clean bill of health leads our vet to a prognosis, potentially more complicated. Ruby might have a brain tumor, an MRI is recommended, which I don’t realize at the time requires general anesthesia. We’re all concerned Ruby will not be able to walk when we lift her off the table to the ground, but she does. I follow her as she high tails it into the waiting room happy to see Stacey and Jim. They explain what an MRI requires. I’m clear that putting her through this type of test at her age is not going to happen but agree to meet with a neurologist the next morning. We leave the office for our apartment 3 blocks away. Ruby walks very slowly and I see Andy crossing the street to meet us. When we arrive at our building I wonder if she is going to make it down the steps and feel optimistic when she does. Once inside the apartment, she takes a drink, turns her nose up at the food sitting in her bowl since breakfast and lies down in the living room. Her eating habits have been finicky for the past few weeks. We try to make her comfortable. Andy comes back from the supermarket with filet mignon, broils it and Ruby seems engaged in steak for dinner. I hand feed it to her. It’s now 4 hours since she’s been rushed to the vet’s office. She needs to go out for her final walk and I take my cell phone with me. She steps off the curb to do her business and collapses, losing control of her bowels. I call Andy, who rushes down and carries her back inside. I sleep on the floor by her side all night long, not really accepting that it is probably our last night together. I calculate we’ve been together give or take 5,400 days and nights, somewhere near 780 weeks.
It’s December 19th, Tuesday morning. I call the neurologist, who tells me not to let her suffer, which is what I want to hear. Ruby is lying on the rug when I reach for my cell phone and record her last photograph: her spirit is quiet, vivid and elegant. Her head rests on her fleecy bed and if you look closely, Andy’s hand touches her back, letting her know he is there for her; the warmth of her last sun in life shines in the window. Those last few hours, so beautiful and excruciatingly painful, are illuminated in a halo of gold.
I’m not in the photo but she is looking at me. I know this is the end and I believe she does too. I can’t breathe thinking about it now. It is impossible to imagine not seeing her again. There is still time to linger. I walk out of the room for a second and when I come back, she’s moved for the first time that day, settled in by Andy’s feet, closer to the sun. Nothing can prepare me for the loss.
Ruby’s tongue is cold as she kisses me for the last time. She tastes my tears and I feel her enter my heart. I travel back in time, over 14 years; Ruby is a rambunctious 6 month old puppy. Speeding home on the Santa Monica Freeway, hoping to catch a glimpse of the hot pink sunset falling into the ocean; Ruby keeps jumping, squirming out of the passenger seat, insistent on kissing me. I conclude the situation dangerous, and the tape in my mind is judgmental, ‘she’s an excessive kisser, too affectionate.’ Thankfully, the tape in Ruby’s head is only wired to give and receive love. Her gold eyes shine with purpose and she keeps coming at me, until her wet, gentle tongue connects with my nose. She looks at me like she’s won a basket full of biscuits and I learn my first lesson from her – that the concept of excessive kissing and being too affectionate is really my problem, not hers. And it was an awakening that was long overdue.
January 21st, I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of Ruby’s bark and conclude it must have been a dream. When Andy wakes up in the morning, he tells me he heard Ruby bark last night. Instead of taking her ashes upstairs with us, we left them downstairs for the first time. Guess she was pissed.
A story from Lori Smith about Gone but never forgotten
posted 12/29/2008
I just finished reading Marley and Me and I have to say I didn't end it with a dry eye! As our vet says..there's a reason that God made puppies so darn adorable...if they were ugly we'd never let them get away with the behaviors that we do! My husband and I have welcomed six wonderful four-legged kids into our family over the past 17 years. We have had to say goodbye three times and it doesn't get any easier. The first was with our 10 1/2 year old lab mix "Sheba". She had developed degenerative myelopathy and despite what some thought a crazy idea for such an old dog..we got her a K-9 cart to get her around the back yard. We were given an additional year and a half with her in her cart...cars would stop to watch her race across the yard with her sisters. I so connected with you John where you wrote the part about asking Marley to tell you when it was time...I have done that three times and each time my girls have given me the courage to make that decision as they were tired and ready to go. When Soctt and I got home we stood there just crying in each others arms, not since the death of my mother had I cried like that. Our second loss was with "Betsy" our Australian Shepard Mix. At the tender age of 13 she started having seizures..when she had 6 in one month it was time to say good-bye. We used to call her our "hound from Hell" as she tore apart every piece of furniture we owned. Still have one of the couches and the puppies just love sleeping on the chewed out parts. We had gotten Betsy from the human society and knew she was ours that first day when I picked her up and she peed all over me!!! Betsy was our "houdini dog" when we'd leave her in a locked crate, come home to her out (with the tell-tale signs) yet the crate was still locked! How'd she do that? I believe that Marley had an episode of "breaking out" as well. I laughed till I cried with that one. Our third and final loss came just six months ago with our sweetheart who lived in the house just one day less than we did. Nakita or "Kita" for short..was adopted from the local vet just one day after we moved into our new home. My husband worked until 1AM and would come home and take her out back and just the two of them would sit out there "talking" as he downed a cold one before going to bed. When we said goodbye to Betsy we began to notice Kita failing. She slept longer, didn't eat as much, and we believe that she was going deaf and blind in her old age. Kita was 16 when we said goodbye. I remember laying on the floor with her that afternoon after having given her a bath telling her that Grandma was waiting along with Sheba and Betsy. She looked up one more time and you just know that they're ready and that they love you no matter what. We call ourselves owners when in fact it is they that own us...we arrange our schedules around them as puppies as to not leave them crated for very long. We then find ourselves doing the same as they get older because it's not fair to the old gals. As I sit here with Brandy our 5 year old yellow lab and her sisters...the 6 month old lab/border collie mixes I can't help thinking about how truly blessed we are that these faithful, loyal, and loving companions give us oodles of love and affection and ask so little in return. Food, water, and an occasional belly rub.....OH...and can't forget..the larger share of the couch! John, if you read these postings I would just like to say..thank you for sharing your doggie tale with us. In all of Marley's antics I could see each and every one of our babies. They are not just dogs to us..they are family with personalities that steal your heart away from the first scent of puppy breath followed by puppy kisses to adult companionship of unconditional love. No matter what type of day I've had, I can come home to three kisses filled, jumping fools who love me no matter what!!!! THANK YOU
A story from Joe about spike
posted 12/29/2008
Dear John, When I read Marley and Me I laughed, cried,and smiled. Marley remindes me of my dog Spike. Who is just, you know, kind of, one of a kind. if he was born in 2004, he would be two of a kind. thank you for writing your books. also, now i know when spike has something, he does a weird wimper. No Marley Mumbo, but a happy wimper.
A story from Andrea about two labs named Raleigh and Cannon
posted 12/29/2008
I just wanted to thank you John for the book you wrote. I enjoyed reading it and it brought back a lot of funny times with our dogs. We have two labs named Raleigh and Cannon who have brought us nothing but good times and laughter. While reading the book I could not believe how much Marley and our dog Raleigh(yellow) are alike, I started calling her Marley for a joke. Unfortunately, we are entering the senior years with our dogs and it has become a little sad, our chocolate lab Cannon is going to be 13 and our yellow is going to be 10, we have already had some health issues with the chocolate but she is still full of life. We are trying to remember all the good times over the years we had with the dogs and the children which still make us laugh. There is one story that I love to remember and it was the time when Raleigh was a puppy and we had to go out, we put her into her crate and Cannon was able to be left alone (Raleigh still the bad one after 9 years) when we returned we were greeted by both dogs at the front door, my first response was" OH NO "what has she done? When we entered the house we found that the dogs had pulled over the Christmas tree and proceeded to eat all the wooden and most of the plastic ornaments as well as a box of chocolates still in the wrapping. Still to this day I have kept one of the ornaments that was half eaten to remind us of what those two are capable of with a little time on their hands. Every Christmas we place the ornament on the tree and laugh. That is one of many stories we have involving Raleigh and Cannon, believe me there are many more and some with an outcome more expensive than others. Thanks again for making me remember what an important part these two dogs play in our family.
A story from Lori Mogill about Django and the love he gave
posted 12/29/2008
First I have to admit I was late in joining the MARLEY & ME fan club. It was, however, the one thing that helped get me through rehab this past Thanksgiving. Second: I'm sure I'm not the only one to say that I found so much of myself in your journey with Marley. Not that the following opus deals w/ "the world's worst dog", but that I too, had a dog who taught me what real love was all about. Enter Django, the most beautiful Golden Retriever I have ever seen. Fall '94. At the time I was 34 and married to my husband a little over 2 years. We were assistant house advisors, living in a dorm with 20 plus 11th grade boys on the campus of a very prestigious private school. I had been nagging my husband on a daily basis for a dog; especially when were out and saw one. My dog-dar would activate, I'd rush over to ask said dog owner if I could cop a feel while looking at my husband using my best puppy dog eyes only to have him shake his head. This was a common occurrence until the Fall of '94. Three life changing events happened in August/September: I became pregnant, we bought our first home and we finally bought a puppy. I was overwhelmed with happiness to say the least. A family friend had bred his female Golden (Cassie) and had promised us the pick of the litter. When the puppies were finally weaned we went to pick up our pick. We climbed right into the puppy pen and let "Django" climb all over us. We let him chew our hair, chew the hem of our shorts, nibble our fingers. We, in turn, turned him onto his back and rubbed his belly until his eyes rolled up inside his head and he was gone, gone, gone. After visiting for a while, we collected his AKA registered papers, a cloth diaper reeking of Cassie's scent, said our good-byes and headed home...our "fur-son" in hand; quite literally. Our choice of name, like Marley's was inspired by a musician. We had been listening to Django Reinhardt and really loved how mellow and easy and happy and uncomplicated his music was. We hoped the idea of people emulating the symbolic meaning of their names would hold true for dogs too. For us, at least, it did. Our first night was probably pretty typical for most dog owners, but special for us. Our dorm apartment was all boxed up, ready for the big move to our first house. We put Django in his crate in the living room. In it, we put a blanket and his mama diaper. Then we went to bed and hoped for sleep. Which didn't happen. Django cried. He cried and he cried and he cried. Then he wailed. So my husband dragged the crate into our bedroom and did one of the most sensitive things I ever remember him doing. He laid down on the floor, spooning the crate while rubbing the puppy's head. Soon both were happily snoring in sound sleep. Moving day came and went. So did our first born, Danny followed four years later by sister Anna. So did too many bags of leaves and too many summers throwing sticks in the lake. Through it all Django proved to be an excellent co-parent. When the babies were mobile be became their Jungle- Gym. They crawled over every inch of his tawny body, pulling on his tail and his ears while he would lay patiently still. Truth be told, I'm sure he figured that playing dead was the least he could do considering the babies found it way too fun to check gravity with Cheerios and Kraft Mac and Cheese. Despite the extra pounds, they were HIS children and his job was to watch them. He loved them so. The years passed, the kids grew, and the marriage ended. In all the "agreements" connected to the divorce, it was "agreed" that Django would stay with me. And in one of those terrible moments where you are alone in an empty house, where the silence is deafening, I reached out to hug Django. Just like in MARLEY & ME, I saw my dog with new eyes. Looking back at me wasn't the face of a puppy, or even the face of a young dog. It was the face of an 11 year old. His face was white and a film now covered his once ebony eyes. As I looked at him it hit me hard that here was a marker of my young adult life. He was the only member of the family I made who saw me through every stage a woman holds precious: the loving wife, the pregnant wife, morphing into motherhood (twice), miscarriage, childrearing, divorce...And in this moment I realized that the unconditional love we long for from our spouses or from our children we always find in our pets. Their capacity to attach is deep and their motivation simple: just love and protect me and I'll give it back tenfold. I put my arms around his neck and said,"O.K. I know you're old. And I know you hurt. But I need you to do me a favor. Could you please not go anywhere for a while? I really need you to get me to the other side of this divorce thing. I have to get up on my feet again and I need some help. So could you stick around?". He did. Until March '07. Django was 12 1/2 on Saturday, March 10, 2007. It was 10:30 pm and I let him out to take care of some business. When he didn't come back in the normal amount of time I got this really sinking feeling. Thinking he took off (as he did every so often), I put on my coat and boots, ran outside and started calling his name. Before I got into the car to go looking for him, I thought I'd circle my property. When I got to the darkest side of my house I found Django on his side. I ran to him thinking he had broken something, but he just couldn't get up. I tried to pick him up, but couldn't. I stared to cry and couldn't stop. I don't remember how I got him into the car. I do remember getting to the emergency vet hospital. I remember the vet techs running to my car with the gurney. I remember I had barely finished filling out the forms when Dr. Latra called me back to a room. I remember the X-Ray he put on the light-box and the huge mass in Django's tummy. I remember words like "cancer", "operate", "chemo", "radiation", "maybe 6 months", "or put him down". And in a split second there it was; a decision I had been fearing had been made for me. How could I even entertain the idea to operate on a dog who was 12 and 1/2, who more than likely wouldn't survive the surgery just to put him through horrible treatment to maybe get 6 months? I told Dr. Latra I would be putting Django down, but I would do this with my own doctor and not until my children had a chance to say their good-byes. On Sunday, Danny and Anna came home for the week. I sat them down to tell them the bad news. With Tuesday, March 13 scheduled to be THE day we decided to spend the next few days pampering our beloved dog. Though we had to be careful of being really physical with him for fear of hurting his stomach, spooning, cuddling and kissing received top billing. We journaled our favorite memories and went through old photos. On Monday, March 12, we gave Django his "last supper" which consisted of two plain cheeseburgers from McDonalds and a Puppy Cup from Dairy Queen. And when it came time for bed we all camped out in my room with Django nearby. Thankfully Tuesday morning was hurried. My ex was late in getting to my house to pick the kids up for school. My kids were late in getting up for school as the night before was extremely emotional. So the focus was getting them out the door instead of tearful farewells. Some life experiences are meant to be handled alone. Putting your dog down is not one of them. Thanks to two friends from work and the staff at the vet clinic I was far from that. One friend came to my house for the sole purpose of getting Django into the car. The other came with me to hold my hand through the ordeal. When we walked into the clinic the nurses who knew Django were there and once I saw them the tears began to flow. As we made our way back to THE ROOM my legs began to shake and I couldn't see because by this time I was sobbing. The Room was made as comfortable as it could have been; considering what it was designated for. Aside from the blanket that had been spread on the floor, there was a couch and an overstuffed chair (or two...can't remember) and the same Andrew Wyeth print of the sleeping dog on the 4 poster bed I have hanging in my bedroom. There's some irony for you. The nurse who would be administering the shots came in. I started to shake. She asked us to get Django comfortable and on his side. She prepped him. I petted him. She told me she would leave the room to get the first shot and would return in a moment. As cliche as this sounds, I swear it felt as if I was losing part of myself. My heart was so heavy and as I began to say my words to him I thought it was going to break in two. I told him how much he was loved. I told him how wonderful he was and how better my life was because he had been part of it. I thanked him for being my friend, co-parent, shrink, BFF, and most of all I thanked him for waiting until I was able to stand on my own two feet before leaving this world. Somewhere between the first and second shot I lost my nerve. I started to feel the walls of THE ROOM close in on me. I realized that I just wanted to remember Django with a warm body and a beating heart. I looked over at my friend who was only too glad to stay with Django 'til he fell asleep. I ran/walked out of the clinic into the fresh air. Ironically the weather was amazing. It was unseasonably warm. The sky was blue, blue, blue. No clouds. And there were birds. And they were singing. Welcoming my baby home. Home to the Rainbow Bridge where he will be forever healthy, happy and young.
First I have to admit I was late in joining the MARLEY & ME fan club. It was, however, the one thing that helped get me through rehab this past Thanksgiving. Second: I'm sure I'm not the only one to say that I found so much of myself in your journey with Marley. Not that the following opus deals w/ "the world's worst dog", but that I too, had a dog who taught me what real love was all about. Enter Django, the most beautiful Golden Retriever I have ever seen. Fall '94. At the time I was 34 and married to my husband a little over 2 years. We were assistant house advisors, living in a dorm with 20 plus 11th grade boys on the campus of a very prestigious private school. I had been nagging my husband on a daily basis for a dog; especially when were out and saw one. My dog-dar would activate, I'd rush over to ask said dog owner if I could cop a feel while looking at my husband using my best puppy dog eyes only to have him shake his head. This was a common occurrence until the Fall of '94. Three life changing events happened in August/September: I became pregnant, we bought our first home and we finally bought a puppy. I was overwhelmed with happiness to say the least. A family friend had bred his female Golden (Cassie) and had promised us the pick of the litter. When the puppies were finally weaned we went to pick up our pick. We climbed right into the puppy pen and let "Django" climb all over us. We let him chew our hair, chew the hem of our shorts, nibble our fingers. We, in turn, turned him onto his back and rubbed his belly until his eyes rolled up inside his head and he was gone, gone, gone. After visiting for a while, we collected his AKA registered papers, a cloth diaper reeking of Cassie's scent, said our good-byes and headed home...our "fur-son" in hand; quite literally. Our choice of name, like Marley's was inspired by a musician. We had been listening to Django Reinhardt and really loved how mellow and easy and happy and uncomplicated his music was. We hoped the idea of people emulating the symbolic meaning of their names would hold true for dogs too. For us, at least, it did. Our first night was probably pretty typical for most dog owners, but special for us. Our dorm apartment was all boxed up, ready for the big move to our first house. We put Django in his crate in the living room. In it, we put a blanket and his mama diaper. Then we went to bed and hoped for sleep. Which didn't happen. Django cried. He cried and he cried and he cried. Then he wailed. So my husband dragged the crate into our bedroom and did one of the most sensitive things I ever remember him doing. He laid down on the floor, spooning the crate while rubbing the puppy's head. Soon both were happily snoring in sound sleep. Moving day came and went. So did our first born, Danny followed four years later by sister Anna. So did too many bags of leaves and too many summers throwing sticks in the lake. Through it all Django proved to be an excellent co-parent. When the babies were mobile be became their Jungle- Gym. They crawled over every inch of his tawny body, pulling on his tail and his ears while he would lay patiently still. Truth be told, I'm sure he figured that playing dead was the least he could do considering the babies found it way too fun to check gravity with Cheerios and Kraft Mac and Cheese. Despite the extra pounds, they were HIS children and his job was to watch them. He loved them so. The years passed, the kids grew, and the marriage ended. In all the "agreements" connected to the divorce, it was "agreed" that Django would stay with me. And in one of those terrible moments where you are alone in an empty house, where the silence is deafening, I reached out to hug Django. Just like in MARLEY & ME, I saw my dog with new eyes. Looking back at me wasn't the face of a puppy, or even the face of a young dog. It was the face of an 11 year old. His face was white and a film now covered his once ebony eyes. As I looked at him it hit me hard that here was a marker of my young adult life. He was the only member of the family I made who saw me through every stage a woman holds precious: the loving wife, the pregnant wife, morphing into motherhood (twice), miscarriage, childrearing, divorce...And in this moment I realized that the unconditional love we long for from our spouses or from our children we always find in our pets. Their capacity to attach is deep and their motivation simple: just love and protect me and I'll give it back tenfold. I put my arms around his neck and said,"O.K. I know you're old. And I know you hurt. But I need you to do me a favor. Could you please not go anywhere for a while? I really need you to get me to the other side of this divorce thing. I have to get up on my feet again and I need some help. So could you stick around?". He did. Until March '07. Django was 12 1/2 on Saturday, March 10, 2007. It was 10:30 pm and I let him out to take care of some business. When he didn't come back in the normal amount of time I got this really sinking feeling. Thinking he took off (as he did every so often), I put on my coat and boots, ran outside and started calling his name. Before I got into the car to go looking for him, I thought I'd circle my property. When I got to the darkest side of my house I found Django on his side. I ran to him thinking he had broken something, but he just couldn't get up. I tried to pick him up, but couldn't. I stared to cry and couldn't stop. I don't remember how I got him into the car. I do remember getting to the emergency vet hospital. I remember the vet techs running to my car with the gurney. I remember I had barely finished filling out the forms when Dr. Latra called me back to a room. I remember the X-Ray he put on the light-box and the huge mass in Django's tummy. I remember words like "cancer", "operate", "chemo", "radiation", "maybe 6 months", "or put him down". And in a split second there it was; a decision I had been fearing had been made for me. How could I even entertain the idea to operate on a dog who was 12 and 1/2, who more than likely wouldn't survive the surgery just to put him through horrible treatment to maybe get 6 months? I told Dr. Latra I would be putting Django down, but I would do this with my own doctor and not until my children had a chance to say their good-byes. On Sunday, Danny and Anna came home for the week. I sat them down to tell them the bad news. With Tuesday, March 13 scheduled to be THE day we decided to spend the next few days pampering our beloved dog. Though we had to be careful of being really physical with him for fear of hurting his stomach, spooning, cuddling and kissing received top billing. We journaled our favorite memories and went through old photos. On Monday, March 12, we gave Django his "last supper" which consisted of two plain cheeseburgers from McDonalds and a Puppy Cup from Dairy Queen. And when it came time for bed we all camped out in my room with Django nearby. Thankfully Tuesday morning was hurried. My ex was late in getting to my house to pick the kids up for school. My kids were late in getting up for school as the night before was extremely emotional. So the focus was getting them out the door instead of tearful farewells. Some life experiences are meant to be handled alone. Putting your dog down is not one of them. Thanks to two friends from work and the staff at the vet clinic I was far from that. One friend came to my house for the sole purpose of getting Django into the car. The other came with me to hold my hand through the ordeal. When we walked into the clinic the nurses who knew Django were there and once I saw them the tears began to flow. As we made our way back to THE ROOM my legs began to shake and I couldn't see because by this time I was sobbing. The Room was made as comfortable as it could have been; considering what it was designated for. Aside from the blanket that had been spread on the floor, there was a couch and an overstuffed chair (or two...can't remember) and the same Andrew Wyeth print of the sleeping dog on the 4 poster bed I have hanging in my bedroom. There's some irony for you. The nurse who would be administering the shots came in. I started to shake. She asked us to get Django comfortable and on his side. She prepped him. I petted him. She told me she would leave the room to get the first shot and would return in a moment. As cliche as this sounds, I swear it felt as if I was losing part of myself. My heart was so heavy and as I began to say my words to him I thought it was going to break in two. I told him how much he was loved. I told him how wonderful he was and how better my life was because he had been part of it. I thanked him for being my friend, co-parent, shrink, BFF, and most of all I thanked him for waiting until I was able to stand on my own two feet. Somewhere between the first and second shot I lost my nerve. I started to feel the walls of THE ROOM close in on me. I realized that I just wanted to have my last feeling of Django be one of a warm body with a beating heart. I looked over at my friend who was only too glad to stay with Django 'til he fell asleep. I ran/walked out of the clinic into the fresh air. Ironically the weather was amazing. It was unseasonably warm. The sky was blue, blue, blue. No clouds. And there were birds. And they were singing. Welcoming my baby home. Home to the Rainbow Bridge where he will be forever healthy, happy and young.
A story from John Grisik about Disc 9, The Longest Trip Home
posted 12/29/2008
We purchased "The Longest Trip Home" for our trip from Ohio to Florida and greatly enjoyed the story through the first 8 discs. When we inserted disc 9 we got 18 tracks of songs from unknown artists. The disappointment in not hearing the final chapters in the story was intense. How can we exchange our "song" disc for the final disc so we can learn the ending of the story we so badly want to hear? Our e-mail address is jgrisik@aol.com.
A story from Donna R about My Dog Baxter
posted 12/29/2008
My husband and I have a 2 year old Yellow Lab named Baxter who is our pride and joy. I never thought I could love an animal so much. When I read your book I found myself laughing hysterically out loud at some of the stories because we have been thru some of the same things ourselves. As a matter of fact, I had to buy a 2nd Marley and Me book because Baxter ate the 1st one.
Among eating the book, Baxter has destroyed several pair of my shoes, hats, other books, ripped up a 6x12 section of carpet down to the subfloor in our family room, has left scars on my ankles (yes, scars), destroyed 20 X-mas ornaments in the past 3 weeks, ate a $100 bill, has pulled me down on the lawn trying to take off running, chases our cat all over the house, sent me to the emergency room with a cut on my hand, has eaten bars of soap.....and the list goes on. But he is our dog and we wouldn't trade him for anything else in this world.
He loves to climb all over you when you are trying to watch TV. This 82 lbs dog thinks he is a 7 lb pug.
Then there is the evening hours when all he wants to do is lay next to you with his head on your lap and snore away. It makes all of his wrong doings worth it.
The last several chapters of your book were heart wrenching. I could not control my tears. I don't think I ever cried so hard from reading a book. Once I finished the book I just leaned down, gave Baxter a big kiss and layed next to him. And I let him sleep in bed with us that night.
Baxter is my Marley.
A story from Leanna about My poofballs of love
posted 12/29/2008
I just wanted to say that this book really touched me. I picked it up to rrad and could not put it back down. I happen to live in West Palm Beach, Fl. Not too far from where Marely & his family resided. I have 2 labs of my own. 1 yellow & 1 black lab named Oscar & Casey. My yellow lab Oscar reminds me so much of Marley. So full of love and joy. I have many stories of my labs eating shoes, eating my brand new couch, chewing the chair legs of my kicthen table to little tooth picks. I can go on and on!! They both have mellowed out in the past year!! I have learned so much from my dogs. Like your book says.. Dogs do not judge you or care about what you have and don't have. It's all about uncondional love, being loyal & giving and receiving love . You can't ask for more than that!!! Thank you so much for opening up your heart and soul and allowing us to take a peak into your personal journey with you and your family. You are an amazing writter. God bless. Leanna
A story from Amanda Markle about Our own Marley story
posted 12/29/2008
I saw the movie Marley & Me today and there was not a dry eye in the theater. What an amazing movie! Having read your book two years earlier it brought back a lot of memories for us. It is so amazing how your life parallels ours in many ways. My husband and I got married, bought a house and brought home our first dog all in the first year. We also found our "clearance" dog and named him Marley after Bob Marley. Many people thought that Marley was a girl's name, so we would always have to explain that he was named after Bob. :) The first few years Marley chewed up everything from shoes to the TV remote. It was funny having to explain to Direct TV why we needed a new remote. "Well my dog ate it." That got a good laugh. Then the other similarity was that our first pregnancy also ended in a miscarriage which left us both devastated. Marley was a big comfort to us then. Finally in May 2004 we welcomed our first child. I loved reading your book. It made me laugh out loud, smile and cry. Thank you for sharing this with us all!
A story from SCJ about Baby test run with dog
posted 12/29/2008
Just like Marley, our dog Brady was a test run to see if my husband and I could manage as parents. We had great aspirations to have the most perfect, well behaved dog. We were determined to keep him out of our bed, off the furniture and away from the dinner table. We never imagined how determined our dog was to do just the opposite. When we brought him home we set him up in his crate just outside our room. He cried all night long and I ended up sleeping next to him with my hand reaching through the door so he could rest his head on my palm. He cried every night like this for 12 weeks. Of course all this coincided with my first trimester of pregnancy where I went from a runner training for a marathon to a sloth on the couch. My poor husband had a glimpse of what parenthood was going to be like and luckily didn't run away. He did however want to send the dog back. Of course you can't take a puppy away from a hormonal pregnant woman who was judging her parental ability on how she handled a dog. Luckily we found a great doggy day care so he could run all day and tire himself out. Sad to say it also took A can full of pennies lobbed angrily at the dog's crate in the middle of the night by a crazed pregnant me to finally cure poor Brady of the nightime whining. Luckily for us, my son has always been a good sleeper. But I know that the lessons that we learned from our test baby wold have helped us persevere. I am happy to report that our oversized 76 pound "runt of the litter" dog is happily dreaming on his own bed right now. Thank Goodness.... and Thank you John for Bringing Marley into all of our lives and for sharing the stories of your family. What a great tribute to your parents. I know that they would be so proud of your ability to reach out to so many people with your writing. Congratulations on the success of the movie!
A story from Maddie about Taji, a sweet but smelly dog
posted 12/29/2008
Hi. My name's Maddie and I have three dogs named Taji, Charm, Nadra and a cat,Snow. The dogs names are listed in order of age, but Snow is the oldest. John, I am 11 years old and I have read both Marley and me's, and yes I mean the chapter-kid one and the adult Marley and Me, life and love with the worlds worst dog. I would like to share the story about my oldest dog, Taji. Once when I was five as my mom and I were approaching the door of our house, we smelled a stench so foul, we had to cover our noses before we even went inside. Taji is really my aunts dog(but I did all the feeding,washing,etc.)and she was living with us at the time, but she was at work. When we walked in everywhere were giant piles of poop, not a pretty site! Taji was still in his kennel, but all on the bars and the black tray at the bottem was covered in poop. All on the walls and furniture, poop, even HE was covered in it. We gussed that he had pooped, picked it up in his mouth(because it was lined with poop too)and had flung it all over the place. If the site wasn't bad enough, the smell almosed knocked us over it was so strong. I didn't think anything of it exept a bad smell. My mom took out her phone and called my aunt. She was on speaker and I could hear her perfectly. My mom said "Donna, get home, now!". My aunt said"Why, what happened, are you o.k.? Is the house o.k.? Is Taji o.k.?". Taji was a puppy at the time, he wasn't even one. All my mom could say was "Get home!". Twenty minutes later, Donna was home. She could smell it too and she could tell it was coming from our house. My uncle( my mom and Donna's brother) lived upstairs and we were waiting up there, where the smell wasn't as strong. For three days, Donna and her 13 year old daughter, Brittany cleaned up and we all stayed upstairs. Brittany is now 19, I am 11,and Taji is 5 1/2. In that time we got Charm, and Nadra. This story, I could see Marley doing. And Nadra acts the same as puppy Marley acts in your book. Thank you for the inspiration you've given me. You've shown anyone that reads your book that dogs are truley man's best friend.
A story from Jeannine about My life with Buddy
posted 12/29/2008
John, Like others...I am very late to join the Marley and Me fan club...but better late than never!! Your book brought back many happy memories for me as well as many tears at the end. In fact I must admit I read 3/4 of the book in a day but as I got closer to Marley growing older...I found myself not reading as fast.When I knew what was coming... I put the book down for another day and 1/2. I guess my thoughts were.. if I don't finish the book... it won't end the way it has too. So.. here's a bit about "My Marley" His name was Buddy and he was a brittany spaniel. I don't know if you know about most brittanys ...but they are lively, loveable and full of energy. They always look like they are smiling and are ALWAYS looking for a good time. Well, that was my Buddy too!!He was not too destructive... he was just wacky!!I remember asking my vet if he would ever calm down... and she said "yes" about 2 days before he dies!!" He would run into things, step all over you, slobber all over you and just love you. As he grew older, he had horrible allergies that would make him itch like mad!!And he had this bone chilling scream he would let out ( even in the middle of the night). Then in his golden year, he had most of the arthritic pains that you described. I often looked at him and wondered when it was going to happen. Dear sweet Buddy was with me when I got married, when I too had a miscarriage and when I was going through a terrible divorce. He was my rock and "held" me on many nights when the tears just kept coming. Buddy was lucky though... he stayed with me while I met a new man and Buddy was able to join me in my new life. He hung around for 2 more years, so that my "new love' would learn to love him.He grew older and weaker and I began to tell him "it wasOK...I was Ok".Then 1 morning I woke up and John told me "BUddy was gone". The dear old guy saved me the pain of having to decide. He died in our bedroom peacefully. As crazy as he was, I will never forget that dog and he will always have a special place in my heart. Now.. can I go see the movie?? Or will I be blubbering throughout the movie?? Guess I am going to take the chance!! Thanks from all the dog lovers for writing what we all think and fell about our pets!!
A story from Hannah van der Eerden about My Dog Tucker
posted 12/29/2008
Sorry i am a little girl so i don't know how to upload photos. Now i will get on to the story... I got Tucker when i was in 4, and he's my best friend Tucker is a Bouvier des Flanders. He's black beautiful and loyal. Tucker is a very protective dog so if i were a burglar i would not try to break in! Back to the story. When we went to look at Tucker at some guys house we didn't chose Tucker he chose us. He lied down on my lap when he was a few months old but he was super heavy. I COULDN'T TAKE IT! After we looked at him we got to know him so we said "He's ares" We took him home and taught him a couple of tricks... We loved him more than ever and we still do... Now i don't really want to get in to those long life stories i just wanna tell you some funny things Tucker has done. About 2 years after we got Tuck we new he would do anything for us including protect us... One day my dad came home late when he walked in the door everyone was asleep- Everyone except Tucker that is. So my dad walks in the door and Tucker comes pounding down the stairs and slams him into the door. While my dad is trying to calm him my mom is rushing down the stairs worried sick. She pulls Tucker off of my dad and then it was all fine. Poor guy... When tucker gets into the snow Snowballs attach to him. On Christmas day there were so many snowballs on the carpet you wouldn't believe it. As you see Tuck is a loyal and caring dog which made us so scared when he got ill. Tucker had a horrible paw infection. It was so bad he couldn't even get up the stairs so i slept down stairs all night with him. That just goes to show you how much i love him.
A story from Emilia about My family of animals
posted 12/29/2008
My family has always made fun of the fact that I love my babies so much, but I have never thought twice about it. I had never even heard of Marley and Me until I opened my mailbox one day and there was a big envelope from my uncle Jorge with your book inside. I instintly started reading it. I have to admit I held off on the last few chapters because I knew where it was headed. I have had many animals throughout my life, but none quite like the ones I have now. My 2 yearold boxer-lab mix, Adonis Charger is my love he knows everything about me, when something happens in my life I tell him. Which makes me thankful me can't talk. I had had a pitbull before and he was a great dog but he was abused and had to be put down. My roomate at the time knew my heart couldn't survive without a dog in my life. So we went searching online in the local pounds for a puppy. Of course all we could find were pitbull mixes and I just couldn't put myself through that again so we began searching in South Carolina where her twin sister lived just to see if there was any that caught our eye. Then we saw 2 puppies a girl and a boy and called her sister up to go look at them and see if they were a good match for me. She took there neice with her to make sure they liked children and she called us to say the little girl was shy and skiddish but the boy just came right up to them. He was sweet and followed them without a leash which was important to me. I wanted a dog that could stay with or without a leash just incase he ever got off of it or ran out the front door. My only concern was that I wasn't going to get him for a week so he was gonna be used to her and not me, but all that changed the secong Charger jumped outta the truck and into my arms, from that day on we have been inseperable. Charger was a very small puppy and for a boxer-lab can still be considered very small. I remember when I first got him he couldn't jump up into my truck, but not for his lack of trying. Everytime I opened the door he tried to jump up and again and again he didn't make it, but finally one day about 2 weeks after I got him he did. The first thing he did was to turn around and put his paws up as if to say, "mama I did it, did you see?!!!" Then he nearly fell out again but i caught him. It was amazing how proud he was of himself and then even more amazing how proud I was of him. Then right at about a 1 year old my roomate that helped me find the little butthead brought me a kitten after my own cat had died and I had sworn them off. Of course he looked just like my old cat reincarnaited I could have killed her for it, but at 4 weeks old all I could was heat up a bottle and feed him. After that feeding and my hands being torn up by kitten claws I named him Meeko. Of course Charger was less than impressed he was very content being mommy's one and only. After a few days they were best friends playing and sleeping together like they'd always been best buds. Now Charger is a good dog but he really had no idea that he was one. He was a cat/ human/ dog. So when he was a year and a half I decided we needed one more addition to this little family of ours and oh boy did we get it. And his name, Goliath, a 2 month old pound puppy a Sheppard hound mix. Charger and Goliath really didn't like eachother at first, Charger even went as far as to bite his nose and left one little mark. The strange thing is after that they were fine. Now a year later Goliath is twice the size of Charger but knows he comes second and does what Charger wants. Goliath is 1 now and the 2 of them love eachother so much. They play like ravinous wolves, to the point you would think they were killing eachother. But it is all in good fun as soon as the energy is gone they colapse on the couch on top of eachother and go back to sleep resting up for the next round. The mornings and the evenings are my favorite parts of the day. In the morning Charger and I get outta bed and let Goliath out of his crate which sometimes he would rather we leave the door shut so he could sleep a little while longer. I make coffee while they go and relieve themselves. Then I head outside to join them, this is the peaceful time of the day. They lay on the lawn furniture with me and soak in the mornings and a few good scratches and then I get ready to go to work. Goliath hops in his crate waits for a treat with the door wide open. And Then of course my pathetic little Charger just watches me as I leave. The evenings are the fun times, I feed them and then the reast for a little while and then it is out the doggy door and hours of playing and resting, and that is how it goes until betime. We have come to call Goliath, Frumpy because that is just what he is. He falls over himself if you want him off of you, you have to do it yourself. Your lap is just to cumfy to expect him to want to move off of it all on his own. When He was a baby he couldn't quite get the hang of running, he just kinda hopped around. Charger on the other hand was my little race dog. Slowly but surely he taught Goliath how to run, with Goliath's shoulder against Charger's rear he guided him through it, when Goliath would fall Charger being the expert he is would do a quick U turn and pick him back up and off the 2 of them will go again. When I finally finished reading Marley and Me I was crying and of course my boys were right there to lick up the tears and put there paws on me as if the, "it's okay mommy we are here for you." The two of them have destroyed many things of mine and I will swear up and down that is it I am done with them and then they give me those big puppy eyes and I just can't imagine a life without my boys. My barking, tail that destroy everything little boys that are always willing to give me a laugh or just use me for a back stratch. I dread the idea that I will day have to indure the pain of letting them go. I find I have more pictures in my computer of them than I do of anyone or anything else. My little family is everything to me, so thank you for giving people a space to write about their non human friends. I agree with you, they touch us ways people just don't know how to do. With their unfailing love and willingness to forgive us for anything we do wrong. And their way of knowing when we need them.
A story from 12/29/2008
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