Hachiko: A Dog's Story

Dear Diary,

Last weekend I went to see a new movie called ‘Hachiko: A Dog’s Story’. If you’ve never heard of this movie, don’t feel bad, because I don’t think it had a big theatrical release, despite featuring Richard Gere. That being said, I felt that it was a pretty decent film.

The story (which is based on a true story) is, of course, about a dog — an Akita to be specific. Now, if you haven’t seen this movie and you really plan on doing so, stop reading now, because I’m going to spoil it for the sake of this entry.














You sure you don’t plan on watching it?















Last chance …


















OK, where were we? Right, Richard Gere finds this Akita puppy at the train station. He decides to take it home and take care of it until the master comes looking for it. Of course, no one ever shows up and he ends up keeping the dog. The dog is very loyal to his master and waits patiently at the train station for him each day after work.

One day, however, he never makes it back from work. The dog, though, never stops waiting at the train station. For nine years, the dog continues to wait faithfully for his master to return.

Crying yet? OK, I didn’t cry … something got into my eye, that’s all.

As I thought about this movie later though, something struck me. Amongst all the scenes of the heartbroken people in the movie (the man’s family and friends), I never really felt sad for them. I only felt sad for the dog. IF I was going to cry (which I didn’t, it was just something in my eye), I only would have cried for the dog.

What does that say about me?

I never really came up with an answer to that question.

I remain respectfully yours,
Stephen