I generally shy away from crying at movie theaters. I'll look up at the ceiling, pinch myself, shove a fistful of Sour Patch Kids in my mouth - anything to avoid making a scene.
I saw Marley & Me today and that all changed. I spent the final 20 minutes of the movie in near hysterics, trying to shield my teary eyes from my 7 and 10 year-old cousins.
Going into it, I knew that Marley, the incorrigible, but lovable yellow lab died. But Marley's demise mirrored that of my beloved yellow lab, Beau (renamed "The King" by yours truly during his elder years).
Seeing it on the big screen conjured up some very happy and very painful memories.
After his near-death expeirence, The King came back like Tony Soprano after Uncle Junior shot him in the stomach. Sure, he was a little weak at first. But by the summer, he was back in stride, enjoying the mild Seattle sun and the freshly cut grass.
The King was just shy of his eleventh birthday - still relatively young, even for a lab. But he lived a full life and touched nearly everyone he met (I still have old friends ask me about him).
There's a great line at the end of Marley & Me where Owen Wilson says, "A dog doesn't care if you are rich or poor. Give him your heart, and he'll give you his." That's the absolute truth. My wish is that everyone can experience that love.
I miss The King.
I miss my best friend.
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