Marley and Me
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
I brought him home in a cardboard box and named him Sean. He was one of those dogs that give dogs a good name. He effortlessly mastered every command I taught him and was naturally well behaved. I could drop a crust on the floor, and he would not touch it until I gave him the OK. He came when I called him and stayed when I told him to. We could let him out alone at night, knowing he would be back after making his rounds. Not that we often did, but we could leave him alone in the house for hours, confident he wouldn't have an accident or disturb a thing. He raced cars without chasing them and walked beside me without a leash. He could dive into the bottom of our lake and emerged with rock so big they sometimes got stuck in his jaws. He loved nothing more than riding in the car and would sit quietly in the back seat beside me on family road trips, content to spend hours gazing out the window at the passing world. Perhaps best of all, I trained him to pull me through the neighborhood dog sled style as I sat on my bicycle, making me the hands down envy of my friends. Never once did he lead me into a hazard. He was with me when I smoked my first cigarette and my last. And when I kissed my first girl, he was right there beside me in the front seat when I snuck out my older brother's Corvair for my first joy ride. Sean was spirited but controlled, affectionate but comb. He even had the dignified good manners to back himself modestly into the bushes before squatting to do his duty, only his head peering out. Thanks to this tidy habit, our lawn was safe for bare feet. Relatives would visit for the weekend and return home, determined to buy a dog of their own. So impressed where they was Sean or Saint Sean. As I came to call him. It was a family joke, the Saint business, but but one we could almost believe. Born with the curse of uncertain lineage. He was one of the tens of thousands of unwanted dogs in America. Yet by some stroke of almost providential good fortune, he became wanted. He came into my life and I end his and in the process. He gave me the childhood every kid deserves. The love affair lasted 14 years, and by the time he died, I was no longer a little boy who had brought him home. On that summer day, I was a man out of college working across the state. My first real job, Saint Sean had stayed behind. When I moved on. It was where he belonged. My parents, by then retired, called to break the news to me. My mother would later tell me in 50 years of marriage, have only seen your father cried twice. The first time was when we lost Marianne, my sister, who was still born. The second time was the day Sean died.