Marley and Me Chapter 6-10 (1)
Marley Makes a Movie
Jenny's friend Colleen worked for a film company. One day, Colleen called Jenny.
"My company is making a film about a family in Florida," she said. "They want pictures of a family home. Can I come and take some pictures of your house?"
Colleen came and took photos of our home and the children-and of Marley, too. She showed them to her boss, Bob Gosse.
Some days later, Jenny called me at work.
"Bob Gosse is making a movie about a family with a dog," she said excitedly. "So he's looking for a dog-a big, family dog. He saw Colleen's photos and he's interested in Marley."
"Really?" I said. "You mean... Marley? Our Marley?"
The next day, Colleen came to our house and took Marley to her boss. Two hours later, she brought him back again.
"Marley was great," she said. "Everybody loved him."
Some days later, the company started filming.
"Bring Marley to the Gulfstream Hotel at nine o'clock," Bob Gosse told us.
We put the children and Marley into the car and drove to the hotel. A lot of people stood outside. The police were there, too. One of the policemen looked inside the car. He saw Jenny, two small children, and a large dog.
"You can't come this way," he said. "You have to turn back."
"But we're with the film company," I said. "Our dog is in the movie."
"Really?" the police officer said. Then he looked at a paper in his hand. "You have the dog?" Marley's name was on the paper.
"I have the dog," I said. "Marley the Dog."
"Oh," said the policeman. He turned to another policeman and shouted, "He has the dog. Marley the Dog!" Then he turned to us again. "You can come in," he said.
I felt very important. Marley was famous!
The cameramen started to film Marley. But Marley wasn't obedient. He ran and jumped. He chewed through his leash.
"Cut! Cut! Cut!" shouted Bob Gosse.
At the end of the day, we took Marley home.
"Marley," I said sadly, "you're not going to be famous."
But the next day, the film company called again.
"Please bring Marley back here," they said.
When we got back to the hotel, Bob Gosse said, "On film, Marley was great."
Marley had a very good time with the people in the film company. Everybody played with him and petted him.
After four days, the cameramen stopped filming.
"Call us after eight months," said Bob Gosse. "The movie will be ready then."
After eight months, we called the company. The name of the movie was The Last Home Run, but we couldn't learn anything about it. I called the company again and again.
Two years later, I was in a store and there were a lot of movies on the shelves. Suddenly, I saw The Last Home Run. Marley's movie! I bought it and took it home.
"Come and watch this!" I shouted to Jenny and the children.
We saw Marley in the movie. He was only there for two minutes, but it was very exciting. We all laughed and cried.
"We're famous!" shouted Patrick.
Marley's name came at the end of the film. In big letters, it said, "Marley the Dog."
Sometime later, we said goodbye to our home in West Palm Beach. The place got more and more dangerous, and our house was too small for two children and a large dog. So we moved to a bigger house in another city, Boca Raton. A lot of rich people lived in Boca Raton. They had expensive cars, big houses, and beautiful clothes.
There were many good things about our new house. Near the house was a small park. But, best of all, it had a pool. We all loved the pool, but Marley loved it most. He jumped in with me and climbed on me.
But there was a problem with the garage in our new house. It had no windows and it got very hot in summer. So we couldn't put Marley in it when there was a thunderstorm.
I took Patrick and Conor to the pet store and we bought a strong cage for Marley. We put it next to the washing machine.
I put some food in the cage. "Come here, Marley," I called. Marley went inside and I closed the door of the cage after him.
He lay down on the floor and chewed his food happily.
"This is going to be your new home when we're away," I said.
That evening, we went out for dinner. Before we left, I opened the door of the cage. Marley walked inside and I closed the door.
"Be a good boy, Marley," I said.
We had dinner in a restaurant, then we went for a walk.
"This is great," said Jenny. "We can forget about Marley. We know he's fine in the cage." She smiled happily.
We went home and walked to the front door. I looked at the window next to it. Something was there, in the window- something black, and wet. It was Marley's nose.
"What's that?" I said. "How could... Marley?"
When I opened the front door, Marley ran to us happily. Everything in the house was fine. Then we looked at the cage. The door was open.
"But how did Marley get out?" asked Jenny.
"He opened the door from inside," I said. "He's smart, and he's very strong."
Day after day, when we left the house, we put Marley into the cage. When we came home, sometimes he was there. Sometimes he was at the window. We tried to make the cage stronger, but Marley was stronger than the cage. When he wanted to get out, he pushed the door open.
The World's Worst Dog
Many people in Boca Raton had dogs, but their dogs were very different from Marley. Most of these dogs were very, very small. Rich women carried them in their handbags, and took them into expensive stores, and in their fast cars. Marley wanted very much to be friends with these small dogs, but the dogs didn't want to be friends with Marley.
The weather in Boca Raton was very good, so lots of restaurants had tables and chairs outside. Customers brought their dogs with them to the restaurants. People ate their food or drank coffee, and their dogs lay quietly on the ground.
One Sunday afternoon, we went out for lunch. We parked our car and walked up and down the street. Many other people were out with their dogs, too. Marley walked next to me on his leash.
We found a restaurant and sat down outside. I put Marley's leash around one of the legs of the strong, heavy table. The waiter came and we asked for some drinks. Then Jenny held up her glass happily.
"To a beautiful day with my beautiful family!" she said.
Suddenly, our table started to move. It moved quickly between the other tables and the other customers.
"What's happening?" I thought. Then I saw a small white dog across the street. "Marley's going to that dog," I shouted. "We have to stop him!"
We jumped up and ran after Marley and the table.
"Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!" we shouted to the other customers.
I ran and grabbed the table. Jenny grabbed it, too. We held it and it stopped moving. I turned around and saw the faces of the other customers. Everybody looked at us with their mouths open.
We carried the table back to its place, and a waiter came.
"I'll get some more drinks for you," he said.
"No," said Jenny. "We'll pay for our drinks and leave."
Jenny and I had another baby. This time it was a girl and we named her Colleen.
When Colleen was two months old, I had my fortieth birthday. I wanted to do something exciting on my birthday, but it was a very quiet day. When I arrived home from work, Jenny was tired. By eight-thirty, all three children were asleep and Jenny was, too.
I felt a little sad. I took a drink outside. I sat and looked at the ocean. Marley lay on the ground next to me. I thought about my life, then I thought about Marley. He wasn't a puppy now; he was six years old. But he loved life and he was very happy.
"Marley," I said, "it's only you and me tonight." I held up my glass. "We're not young, but we're having a good time."
Some days later, my friend Jim called me.
"Let's go out for a drink on Saturday," he said.
Jim came for me at six o'clock and we went out to a bar. We talked and laughed. Then the barman called out, "Is John Grogan here? There's a phone call for John Grogan."
It was Jenny. "The baby's crying," she said. "Can you come and help me?"
"I'll take you home," Jim said.
When we turned into my street, I saw a lot of cars.
"Somebody's having a party," I said.
Jim stopped the car outside my house and I invited him inside. Then, suddenly, the front door opened. Jenny stood there with Colleen in her arms. She had a big smile on her face.
I looked into the yard. There were lots of people around the pool-my friends and neighbors.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JOHN!" they shouted.
I wanted to take Marley to the beach. You couldn't take pets onto most beaches in South Florida, but one small beach was different. Everybody called it Dog Beach. On Dog Beach, dogs could run freely. They didn't have to be on a leash.
One morning in June, I took Marley to Dog Beach. There were lots of people with dogs, but the dogs were on leashes.
"What happened?" I asked a man.
"The police came," the man said. "We have to use a leash."
So I walked Marley on his leash. But I felt sorry for him.
After our walk, I gave Marley a bowl of water. Then a man arrived with a big black dog. It looked dangerous.
"Don't be afraid of him," said the man. "This is Killer. But he's very friendly. He doesn't fight other dogs."
I told the man about the police.
"That's stupid!" he shouted. "This is Dog Beach!"
He took off Killer's leash, and Killer ran into the water. Marley looked at Killer and then he looked at me. I could read his thoughts: Please! Please! Please! I'll be good!
I looked around the beach. I couldn't see any policemen.
I took off Marley's leash and he ran into the ocean after Killer. Marley and Killer played happily in the water. Other people watched them. Then they took off their dogs' leashes, too. The dogs ran into the water.
But then Marley started to drink from the ocean.
"Stop that, Marley!" I cried. "You'll be sick!"
But Marley didn't listen to me and he didn't stop drinking. Then he started to turn around in the water.
"Oh, no!" I thought. I ran into the water.
But it was too late. Marley pooped everywhere.
"Hey!" somebody shouted angrily. "Get your dog!"
"Marley, no!" I shouted. I could feel everybody's eyes on me - and on Marley. "No, Marley, no! No! No! No!"
Marley's poop was everywhere. The other people grabbed their dogs. Marley came out of the dirty water and looked at me happily. But we had to leave.
"That wasn't nice," the man with Killer said.
"Sorry," I said. I put Marley's leash on him.
Other dogs didn't drink water from the ocean. Marley wasn't a bad dog, but sometimes he did stupid things.
"What's wrong with you, Marley?" I said on the drive home. "Sometimes you're the worst dog in the world."
I never took Marley to the beach again.
We Move North
When Colleen was two years old, I got a job with a magazine in Pennsylvania, in the northeast of the United States.