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Marley

“Her name was Marley after Bob Marley. She was only 4 years old when she died. She was a service pug, but then she started to get sick. She was throwing up and I was at the vet every month. Every vet bill was like $1,500 and I couldn’t keep up. Then her liver went. It killed me. It kills me to this day. I was rocking her and I looked into her eyes… It kills me because they don’t know what’s going on. She’s only been gone for like half a year, but it’s hard. That was my dog, you know… It’s weird…

I have a lot of anxiety. There were times where I’d get real depressed and she would just come up to me and hug me and wag her tail. You know how dogs are, they can tell when you’re sad. She was there for me, like a lot. I’ve been sick since I was 17. Being sick, I was always home, and my dog was always there for me, more than my friends. It sounds messed up, but that’s how it is.

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Marley was my third dog. Before Marley, I had Smokey for 16 years. He was my boy dog. This is Mimi. She’s my mom’s dog. She’s 12. Look at this dog – she’s wearing a birthday hat!”

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