Marley: A Dog Like No Other. John Grogan

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       7

       The Things He Ate

      Now I was able to entertain our friends by yelling, “Incoming!” and watching Marley crash to the floor, all four limbs splayed.

      He always came on command – unless something caught his attention, such as another dog, squirrel, butterfly, mailman, or floating weed seed. He always sat – unless he felt like standing. He always heeled – unless there was something so tempting it was worth strangling himself over, such as another dog, squirrel, butterfly… Well, you get the idea.

      Marley’s training was coming along. But that didn’t mean he was mellowing into a calm, well-behaved dog. If I towered over him and barked stern orders, he would obey. Sometimes he’d even do it eagerly. But Marley was still Marley. And Marley was incorrigible.

      A giant mango tree grew in our Florida backyard, and mangoes rained down to the ground. Marley could never eat enough. Each weighed half a kilo or more. They were so sweet they could make your teeth ache. Marley would stretch out in the grass, anchor a ripe mango between his front paws, and remove every bit of flesh from the skin. It was as if he were performing surgery. He would hold the large pits in his mouth like lozenges. When he finally spat them out, they looked like they had been cleaned in an acid bath. There was not a speck of fruit left on them. Some days he would be out there for hours, frantically gobbling down mango after mango.