Marty
Oh, he was a good dog. He was a little crazy though. We lived in a culdesac and whenever he’d get out he’d run around the front and come back with his paws all bloody because he’d been chasing stray leaves on the concrete for hours. He was obsessed with leaves.He loved them. He’d be out there everyday, no matter what, chasing leaves by himself and then he’d just come back all happy and bloody. His paws never seemed to hurt at all.
He was very protective of his space, and of me and my parents. He didn’t hate dogs exactly but he didn’t really like them. They were like competition for him I think. I also think he had gender dysmorphia. He was a boy but he peed like a girl and my best friend’s dog was a girl but she peed with her leg up like a boy so we married them. Her dog was very rambunctious - always trying to play but he wouldn’t really engage and just sort of shrunk into himself around her. So he’d end up just going back to his leaves.
Oh, his name?
His name was
Marty.