大概是老片子了，不太符合評(píng)分。爸爸不讓養(yǎng)狗那段挖了個(gè)坑，以為有什么難言之隱。好好地打著橄欖球，突然成打棒球了。黑人小男孩挖了個(gè)坑，沒(méi)下文了。鎮(zhèn)花跟了宅男屌絲，常年欺負(fù)人的壞男孩突然拉主角入伙，走私犯被發(fā)現(xiàn)卻只是把主角綁起來(lái)，這不愧是一部智商略低的兒童片。Skip咬住橄欖球幫助主角得分并讓壞孩子贊嘆那段簡(jiǎn)直尷尬癥泛濫。Skip頭上著實(shí)挨了一下鐵锨，醫(yī)生說(shuō)盡力了，鏡頭給skip，發(fā)現(xiàn)沒(méi)有傷口沒(méi)有包扎沒(méi)有所謂的“盡力了”的處理。球場(chǎng)上明明不是因?yàn)樾那椴?，而是因?yàn)槿蹼u，所以才沒(méi)打好，所謂的實(shí)力差卻脾氣大，這種主角一點(diǎn)兒都不討人喜歡。不如把對(duì)戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)的反思作為主線更能博得眼球。全靠獨(dú)白撐起一片天，人和狗的感情是非常容易催淚的，選擇了這個(gè)好主題，卻附加了一個(gè)爛故事，如果說(shuō)是因?yàn)楦鶕?jù)真人真事改編，那么改編得好爛。幾個(gè)小孩演得不錯(cuò)

半夜打開(kāi)電視看的時(shí)候，只剩下后半段。
小男孩趴在手術(shù)后昏迷的Skip身邊，輕輕說(shuō)，沒(méi)有你我該怎么辦。
沒(méi)有你的陪伴，上天入地，我只是我。

這樣的午夜，當(dāng)周圍全部寂靜的時(shí)候，聽(tīng)見(jiàn)有個(gè)小男孩這樣安靜的說(shuō)。
仿佛我也成為他的一部分。
記憶中這樣的場(chǎng)景被勾起來(lái)。

可是，我也是在上學(xué)時(shí)候聽(tīng)到這個(gè)消息，沒(méi)有來(lái)得及見(jiàn)寶貝最后一面，它的痛苦，我不曾安慰。
可是，很多東西化在血液里，成為自己無(wú)法分割的，一直存在。

最感人的電影是，跟現(xiàn)實(shí)有太多契合，
原來(lái)，人的很多感情真的是很相通的。


沒(méi)看完，只選了推薦。
我不知道，對(duì)于別人來(lái)說(shuō)，這部電影是什么樣子的。
對(duì)我，給了我那么多回憶，很足夠了。

Memory is a funny thing.

Recollections slip in and out and around in time leaving plenty of room to weave and backtrack. and drift and glide.

In my life, I've found that memories of the spirit linger and sweeten long after memories of the brain have faded. My fondest memories are of my childhood days back in Yazoo, Mississippi.

I can still see the town now. Ten thousand souls, and nothing doing.Where the old men sat drowsily in straw-bottom chairs watching the big cars with out-of-state plates whip by.

Drivers hardly knowing and certainly not caring what place this was. There was a war going on then.And it touched our lives every day. War, President Roosevelt reminded us required everybody to make sacrifices. And boy, we did.

The cotton grew tall that year, the summer of 1942, but I sure didn't.
Matter of fact, I stayed so small and puny..l was a target for the neighborhood bullies.

Fortunately, I lived next door to Dink Jenkins Yazoo's best athlete
and favorite son.

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This was a time of large families.Four or five kids, sometimes more.
So needless to say, ours was already unusual what with me being the only child.

My mother was lively and talkative. Certainly didn't fit the housewife mold.

And my daddy....Well, my daddy was stern and verbearing.He was a war veteran and had lost his leg in battle.And from most accounts, it changed him.

Sometimes it seemed that along with that leg he'd also lost a piece of his heart.

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I met him on the day I turned 9. He was just a trembling ball of fur. Scared and shy as I was.

That night, lying in bed before sleep l felt the beating of his heart against my body.And though I didn't know it then, he was to change my life forever.

My dog, Skip. My best and most steadfast friend.

Skip and I instantly became the best of friends.He didn't mind that I was scrawny and shy or that I liked books a whole lot more than football.

It was unconditional love on both our parts.

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You could talk to him as well as you could talk to many human beings. And much better than you could talk to some.

He'd sit down, look you straight in the eye and when he understood you, he'd turn his head sideways.

I watched Skip grow from the puppy who came to me from a farm.into a sleek and dexterous,affectionate dog.

Skip became a true member of the family.We played games together, did household chores.Even my father had to admit Skip was an exceptional dog.

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Because of Skip,I was able to crossthe threshold from childhood to boyhood from being on the outside to finding myself smack-dab in the middle.

He helped open my eyes to the wonders of life.And I got to know the delta like the palm of my hand.Every bend in the road, every slope, every field.It became as familiar to me as grass or sunlight.

But Skip opened my eyes to other things too.

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Skip grew to know Yazoo too. It was a good place to grow up for dog and boy.

Being friendly, he occasionally wandered around town by himself and anyone of any consequence knew who he was.

 One of Skip's favorite spots was my dear old Aunt Maggie's. Her bridge games meant finger sandwiches for the taking. And the strange creature that was her pet was an endless source of one-sided conversation.

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Like all dogs, Skip was colorblind.

He made friends easily with people of all races and origins. The town was segregated back then, but as we know, dogs are a whole lot smarter than people.

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The seasons in our region of America seemed to have minds of their own.

The fields in winter looked so barren that it seemed nothing could ever grow there again like the dark sky would last the rest of the year. Then, magically, spring would come and catch us by surprise every time.

And there were so many surprises that year.

Who'd have thought that my daddy would ever let me play football?Who'd have dreamed that Rivers Applewhite the prettiest girl in town, would let me hold her hand?

————————————————
Old Skip had helped me through the struggles of boyhood.

But his job was far from done.

————————————————
I almost lost old Skip that day.

Even as he was sleeping on the operating table he was still teaching me.

That day l became a young man.
 
Why, in childhood and youth do we wish time to pass so quickly?
We want to grow up so fast.
 
Yet as adults, we wish just the opposite.

If, as the authorities often declare a dog's life in relation to a human being'scan be calculated by seven human years to his one then Skip was an adult when I was still a boy.

Sometimes it seemed as if he possessed the wisdom of a creature as old as time.

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In remembering moments such as these. l retain the sad, sweet reflection of being an only child and having a loyal and loving dog.

For the struggles of my life of the dangers, toils and snares of my childhood hymns loyalty and love are the best things of al and surely the most lasting.

The day finally arrived for me to move away from home. I was awarded a scholarship to attend Oxford University in England. A long way from Yazoo, Mississippi and a long way from my family and friends.

The dog of your boyhood teaches you a great deal about friendship and love and death.

I was an only child.

He was an only dog.

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Old Skip was and feeble with arthritis but he never lost that old devilish look in his eye. He made my room his own.

Came across an old photo of him not long ago. His little face with the long snout sniffing at something in the air. His tail was straight out and pointing eyes were flashing in some momentary excitement.

He always loved to be rubbed on the back of his neck. And when I did it,he'd yawn, and he'd stretch reach out to me with his paws as if he was trying to embrace me.

I received a transatlantic call one day.

"Skip died"Daddy said.

He and my mama wrapped him in my baseball jacket.They buried him out under our elm tree, they said.

That wasn't totally true, for he really lay buried in my heart.

再看一次，仍然熱淚盈眶。
童年時(shí)的狗狗，教會(huì)你認(rèn)識(shí)愛(ài)、友情、死亡，還有很多其他東西。
SKIP就像鎮(zhèn)上的一員，人人都愛(ài)他。