Rest in Peace My Friend

Today, I lost my good friend Marley. Rest in peace my friend and it is with great grief that I write this obituary. Those of you who are not animal-lovers may not understand, but those who have lost a close friend or relative or a loved one will understand.

Born September 1996, Marley was 12 year and 8 months old. She was a beautiful Black Labrador Retriever. I still remember the day I went to pick her up when she was 8 weeks old. The reason I picked Marley out of the litter was because she was the sweetest and gentlest of the bunch. She cried the entire one hour drive home. But even as a pup she was smart. It took her just three weeks of going to the bathroom on newspapers before she learned to do her business outside.

To say that there was a love between a man and a dog is to play on an old cliché. But it is unequivocally true that a deep love existed. It was not just the love of master and his dog. It was also of father and daughter (even though technically Marley was about 90 years old in human years). She taught me much about responsibility and commitment.

When Marley was still a young dog, we climbed mountains together. Just the two of us, sometimes for several days with a backpack and a tent (and dog food of course). In fact, I taught her how to bark on command during one of these hikes on an isolated trail in northern New Hampshire. It was a trick that came in handy on several occasions.

We hiked New Hampshire’s Mt Madison together, but when we got within 300 meters of the top, the trail was littered with jagged rocks and boulders that she simply could not continue. So we just sat there looking at the top, so close, yet so far. Three hundred meters away, and we had to turn back. I told her that if anyone asked we would tell them that we made it all the way to the top. Although we didn’t make it to the actual top of the mountain, we felt good to get close. Who knows? Maybe someday I’ll try it again for Marley’s sake.

Over the years, we spent many lazy afternoons lying on the couch watching sports and napping. Marley loved a good nap especially if she knew I was nearby.

Not too many people know that when we lived in Boston Marley was attacked by pit bulls on three different occasions. Once, while fetching in a park at night, two pit bulls attacked. I grabbed one by the collar and the other chased Marley around in the park. To this day, I think the owner let his dogs loose on her. She wasn’t hurt but we were both shaken up quite a bit. She always held her own though. One time she even sent a pit-bull to the hospital.

But Marley was not a fighter. She was just too kind. When she was about a year old, we let her spend the weekend on a farm with a lady who raised dogs and other animals. This lady (and regrettably I don’t have her name) wrote a full page report on Marley. Imagine that. She typed a full page on how wonderful Marley was. Her conclusion: “Marley loves all living things and wouldn’t hurt a fly.” I still have that report.

She would have been a great mother if it hadn't been for me having her spayed. No dog loved the water more than Marley. Once she got away from me while we were fetching and jumped in the water in the middle of January. Icicles formed on her after she got out. I only had a small towel in the car. But she didn’t care, as long as she was having fun.

We were in a serious accident together (my truck was damaged but we were both ok). Luckily, the accident occurred next to a golf course, so right after the police left she wanted to fetch on the freshly cut greens. So we did. There was virtually nothing she wouldn't use to fetch with (balls, sticks, old shoes, and plastic bottles, whatever she could put in her mouth). We used whatever was available. She was just happy. Fun-loving.

When she was a puppy, we used to fetch every single morning before I left for work, rain or shine, on grassy area directly across the street from a busy bus stop at Ruggles Station in Boston. Because of this daily ritual, after about a year, some commuters would often come up to us and thank us for the “show” Marley would put on for them. She was so fast and athletic. An acrobat catching the ball in the air with all four feet off the ground. They basically saw her grow up, developing from puppy into a mature dog.

She was courageous even when her legs wouldn't do what she commanded. Even walking down a flight of stairs took courage, especially in the past two years. But Marley did it every morning, mustering up all her courage to do so just to follow me downstairs. Sometimes she needed encouragement. She was always with me, next to me, or behind me. Sometimes, when I would suddenly stop she would bump into me - that's how close she would follow behind. But when we took walks, she always led, no matter how hard I tried to be the leader on our walks, she just had to be up front. After a while, I just gave up trying to be the leader on the walks. I just followed.

She was obedient in everything except for the walking. When Marley came home with me in 1996, a friend at work let me borrow a book on dog training entitled “The Art of Raising a Puppy” written by the Monks of New Skete (a monastery in New York). I read the book. It was great in all of its advice, except in one area: the part where the monks recommend rewarding a dog with praise instead of food. Well, I actually called the monks one day to let them know that Marley preferred food over the praise. She liked praise for sure. But she loved food even more. Anyway, Marley became a very obedient companion. And all it took was some dog cookies.

Two years ago, when my daughter was born and spent two months in the hospital, Marley would wait at home patiently while we spent much time at the hospital. When I would pull out my travel bag and started to pack for a business trip, Marley would lay down near me with her sad eyes looking up at me because she knew I would be leaving home for a while. Whenever I walked into a room and closed the door, I always knew she would be right outside the door. When my daughter came home from the hospital, she was so kind and gentle, knowing a new family member was here now. A new "puppy".

The other Marley, the one in the recent "Marley and Me" movie, which I loved by the way, was labeled the "worst dog in the world" by its owner and basically by everyone who came into contact with him. The funny thing is that for years now, well before I knew someone else had named his dog after Bob Marley, I have referred to my friend Marley as the "best dog in the world". Even as she started to grey and after some bumps started to grow on her, she was still a beautiful human wannabe. I think she actually thought she was human sometimes.

Marley loved to eat! She was a food connoisseur. I had to put her on a diet a couple of years ago, but she always managed to convince me with her sad eyes to give her a piece of my sandwich every time she saw me make lunch.

Except for today. As she lay on the floor, unable to move, I brought her a piece of turkey and she refused it. I knew at that moment she was really sick.

She woke me up this morning at 4:30am panting loudly enough that I woke up. When I got out of bed I noticed she had puked her dinner from the previous night. Because that was not too unusual, I wasn't worried. I thought she needed to go out to do her business so we started to walk to the top of the stairs. Marley was wobbling as we walked down the hallway. When we got to the top of the stairs she refused to even try. I had to carry my friend, all 70 pounds of my beautiful, bumpy and grey pal.

When we got to the bottom of the stairs she wobbled to the door and all the way to the side of the house. When we came back in a few minutes later I lifted her onto her favorite spot on the couch, and told her I was going back to bed. She stayed downstairs by herself for the first time in the 8 years we've lived in this house.

She passed away peacefully this afternoon at 3:00pm, a half hour before her Veterinarian’s appointment. The Vet’s office is 15 minutes away. At about 3:15, I was on my way to the car with pillow for her to lie on during the ride. As I walked past Marley, I looked at her and told her we were going for a ride, which she always loved to hear. But then I noticed she was lying perfectly still. As I walked closer I knew she had passed way.

Marley was a great dog. A fun, happy, and intelligent friend. I will miss her every morning. I will miss her while I'm working (she has been my office mate for the past 8 years ever since I started working from my home office). I will miss seeing her sleep on her pillow in my office. And I’ll miss telling her “what a great life you have” as I have said practically every day. And I will miss slipping her a treat while I make a sandwich in the middle of the day. I will miss her zealous greetings whenever I come home. I will miss telling her to “put the shoe back” whenever a visitor comes to my house. I will miss her bad breath. And I will miss just simply seeing her sleep on the couch. I will miss so many things about my friend.

Rest in peace, Marley. One day we will fetch again. I promise.