Spirit Matters: ‘Marley and Me,’ revisited

Many years ago, I watched the movie “Marley and Me” on DVD.

That was the first and last time I have watched it, despite pleas from my niece and nephews as they grew up to watch it. I swore to myself I would never watch it again. Warning, this column contains spoilers to the movie, so now is a good time to exit if you still plan on seeing it for the first time.

If you are an animal lover, and you have seen the movie, you probably know what I mean when I say the ending was brutal to watch.

The movie chronicles the life of a journalist with his puppy Marley, and follows their family life as Marley grows. Marley is a handful. And that is an understatement.

The movie is filled with hilarity and hijinks. Anyone who has ever owned a pet, particularly an unruly pet like Marley, will recognize themselves in the storyline.

But mostly the movie is about the bond between a dog and his people, and how that bond grows and intensifies, often very quickly, until the inevitable day comes to say goodbye, and ... well, we all know that is one of the absolute worst experiences a human must endure.

I have mentioned my Marley – I mean Zeke – in this space often over the years. In fact, I adopted him in March 2014, just three months before Spirit Matters was first published.

My dad had died on Dec. 22, and it was an unusually cold and snowy season during the following months. All of these factors compounded to make living day to day miserable, so I began searching for a four-legged furry friend to help ease the grief.

Zeke is a black Labrador, born on a farm in a litter of 10 puppies. He was the runt of the litter, but when it comes to black Labradors who are bred to be very large, the word “runt” doesn’t mean much.

The first month or so with him was a challenge, with trying to house train him, and all. Plus, he had A LOT of energy. Zeke was born on Dec. 12, so by the time we got him, he was around 25 pounds. And he threw all of his weight into everything he did, and has never stopped.

I remember wondering how, or even if, I would make it past that stage. One year seemed a lifetime away. Let alone the 10 to 12 years of his life expectancy.

Then, only a few months after he joined our family, he got very sick. The doctor suspected Parvo.

As we waited for the results, I sat next to Zeke, gently petting him, as he lay lethargically on his side on the examining table, tears running down my face. I was surprised at how attached I had gotten to him in such a short time.

Fortunately, the Parvo test was negative, and Zeke soon resumed his wild ways.

The hardest thing about raising Zeke has been the separation and general anxiety he has, which contributes to all kinds of unruly behaviors, not the least of which is destroying whatever is in sight when he has been left alone. And not sleeping at night. We have managed to get most of this under control.

Mostly though, Zeke has a funny and loving personality. His eyes speak volumes and his demeanor very clearly indicates what he wants, when he wants it, or what kind of trouble he is looking to get himself into.

As I get close to finishing this week’s column, Zeke is waking up on his pillow behind me, yawning, stretching and licking himself. Which means he will soon be coming over to me to ask me for something, most likely a treat.

It is easy to take these moments for granted in the midst of a dog’s life, but as they reach the age where the inevitable is much closer than it was then, these moments take on new meaning.

I try not to think too much about “the inevitable,” and simply enjoy each day, and whatever hilarity and hijinks remain – and there is still much to enjoy. But watching this animal with a wild soul age and slow down before me is not easy.

He did, after all, come to our rescue when we needed it the most.

Although I can choose not to watch “Marley and Me” again, there will come a day, likely in the next few years, where I will be living that last scene in real time.

I dread it.

And yet, we know the ending before we even begin.

But we go ahead and live the movie out anyway.

After all, “it is better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all.”

This surely applies to the mutual love between us and our furry friends.

The kind of love that leaves a lasting imprint on our souls – ours and theirs.

SPIRIT MATTERS is a weekly column by Jerrilyn Zavada Novak that examines experiences common to the human spirit. Contact her at jzblue33@yahoo.com.