Thursday, April 30, 2009

The Definition of Pathetic

I blame it all on Old Yeller.  Long about when I was 10 or so I was assigned a book at school called "Old Yeller".  It's a story about a boy named Travis and a dog - a yellow lab, creatively named "Old Yeller" who come together on their small Texas farm while the dad is away selling cows at market.  Old Yeller works his way into the family's heart by performing various feats of courage, including saving Travis' younger brother from a bear attack.  

I read that book the way a ravenous person would scarf down a double slice of pizza with extra cheese and four kinds of meat.  I never put it down.  I devoured the book, page by scrumptious page, hungry for the next adventure of that old dog.  That is, until the point in the story where Old Yeller contracts rabies from a wolf he had a chance encounter with.  The kid in the story has to take his own dog, his very own dog out and put him down.   With a RIFLE.  I was devastated.  I did not see this plot twist coming.  Clearly, being a city girl, I had no idea how harmful rabies are, otherwise I might have.  But I didn't.

And that, dear Internet, is when I had to give up all books and movies that featured any dogs.  I cannot bear to read stories whose central character is a dog, purebred, mutt or otherwise pedigreed.  I simply cannot do it.  It chews me up.  I end up holding my breath through the whole book or movie and you know that level of oxygen deprivation is just not good for you!  I can't even watch Benjie and we all know that one turns out okay!  

Even as an adult I can't do it.  A couple of years ago I made the mistake of buying the book "Marley & Me."  You've all seen it at the bookstore (and now a movie starring the fabulously sexy Owen Wilson and the photogenically perfect Jennifer Anniston), a story about raising a family and a crazy dog all at the same time.  I would have thought the 36 years that have ensued since the tragic Old Yeller story that I would somehow now be okay with reading about a dog.  In a word:  NO.  No, I still cannot read about dogs.  I bawled my way through that damn book, even as I was laughing at all the funny parts (of which there are many).

I have mentioned here before that I am currently reading the archives of a very funny blogger whose blog address I won't reveal here for fear that my mother and aunts will discover the potty-mouth website I love so much.  Well, guess what?  Yes, featured throughout much of her blog is their family dog, Chuck.  Now, the last few weeks I have been faithfully reading this blog, back to front, beginning in 2001 when they didn't have a dog and today I am almost finished with 2006 where they not only have Chuck, but Chuck has gone missing (for the 2nd time in a year).  Well...holy smokes, you'd think by the choke in my throat and the tears welling up in my eyes that it was one of MY dogs that had mysteriously vanished!  I couldn't believe I was getting as verklempt as I was - ESPECIALLY SINCE I HAVE READ A FEW OF HER 2009 POSTINGS AND I KNOW THEY STILL HAVE THE DAMN DOG!

Yes folks, I am just that kind of pathetic.

And now, your daily slice of cheese:




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