No Crying in the Airport

For Memorial Day weekend, the Boy and I flew to NY to visit the Boy's family. Upon arriving at the Airport on Friday, I stopped at the bookstore to pick up a book. I chose a book about dogs in honor of the Keep (who was very sad because I left him at home). Unfortunately, the Keep does not fit into the overhead compartments or under the seat.

The book was called Merle's Door and it is a kind of dog memoir (think Marley & Me only more scholarly). Intermingled with the tale of Merle and his person was an interesting history of the relationship between dogs and people. It had nothing to do with the law unless you count leash laws so it seemed like the perfect choice for a travel read.

Not so my friends.

On the way home, the Boy and I had a long layover in D.C. I decided it would be the perfect opportunity to finish the book. I got to the last three chapters without incident. Then, since dogs have life spans that are entirely too short, the dog got sick and died. Mind you, this was not a quick goldfish death... it was long (3 chapters).

Now, to be honest, I sometimes cry during movies and almost always during Grey's Anatomy. The cover of The Notebook DVD makes me tear up. When it comes to dogs, I am especially susceptible to waterworks. Those SPCA commercials with Sarah McLaughlin leave me sniffling. I cannot go to the pound without crying buckets. Before this weekend, the Boy found these emotional tendencies somewhat amusing....

The painfully prolonged death of Merle the dog made me sob. In the airport. At first, the boy found my sniffles amusing. This quickly turned to paranoia when other passengers began to shoot him dirty looks thinking that he was somehow the cause of my tears. By the last chapter I was an emotional wreck... the Boy tried to take the book away from me but the other passengers' don't-you-dare-upset-her-even-more glares kept him from accomplishing the task.

Then, right as old Merle breathed his last... an older gentleman approached the Boy (who was wearing a W&L t-shirt) and introduced himself as a member of the board of trustees of the college. The Boy informed him that we were both graduates, at which point he attempted to introduce me (still sobbing) to the bewildered man. The boy tried to explain that I was not normally a basket case and that I was, in fact, a very rational law student. The man looked scared and hurried on his way.

I am no longer allowed to read books about dogs in public places.