Me, Marley and Me
Shared — redesigndavid @ 7:57 am

Marley 11 Me, Marley and MeA couple minutes ago I finished a book that made me think about a question we each need to ask in the course of our lives. The book I read is a true story reenacted in my mental cinema about the experiences a guy went through being the master of the world’s most documented and ridiculous dog. The question it made me ask is ‘how I like my life to end?’

Asking such a profound question may seem far-fetched after reading a novel with such a shallow premise, true-story or not. But you would find that Marley (the book’s cute dog) has such human characteristics, that he gave every one in my list of top 10 fictional-characters-that-made-a-significant-contribution-in-my-life a good scare for their money. But don’t get me wrong. Marley ain’t your manicured pup. In fact, you can’t find a dog worse than Marley, even if you scour the whole world twice. But Marley acts like that imaginary friend we each keep secret in our hearts (aka conscience) that acts like a gentle giant with limited english.

He made me reconsider things–mainly how I always wanted to die with a bang. I always thought becoming a hero and dying for my country in the same ways my uncle and grandfather did would be, in the words of the samurai, a perfect and honorable death. (Both of my uncle and grand pa are buried in the the Philippines’ national cemetery; both meriting an equal 21 shot gun saluted ceremony. Both equally engraved in my heart.) I wanted to follow their footsteps and translate their devotion in their missions to my life time pursuit. But reading about Marley and his unqualified love made me sense something missing.

I’m not saying I reject the paths my relatives took for the way Marley died (euthanasia). But reading the last couple of chapters developed a pit in my stomach that said national glory is worth nothing without leaving a family or at least a bloodline with members that could eventually enjoy the flowers that blossom from the meadows that were once stained with your blood lost while fighting for the rights of your countrymen. I mean a family that loves you. And in a sense, as my uncle and grand pa taught me to love my country, this dog taught me to love my family.

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