I can’t believe I just typed that title. She had a good life. She really did. She grew up in Memphis with me working from home and her personality was really built from that in a sense.
Spending so much time with me on a day to day basis gave her the ability to learn so much english that it was like you were with a real person. We spent days and days together. Working from home you don’t see many people so a dog was important.
Marla was part of so many house parties. She enjoyed parties because people would pet her.
She came with me when I moved to New Orleans. She almost got shot by NOPD on St Patricks day. She survived a pretty rough car crash and I had to go get her from doggy jail in St Tammany. She was so happy to see me when I got her out, I won’t forget that.
We went our separate ways after hurricane issac destroyed my apartment. I took her to Memphis with me while I tried to figure out what the fuck to do with my broken life. My parents kinda forcibly adopted her. It made sense, i was homeless.
When I decided to move back to New Orleans my parents somewhat insisted she stay with them and their new puppy since they had bonded. Moving back while homeless was no place for a older dog so I obliged.
I got to see her one last time about a week ago when my parents were in Destin. She was super skinny, I kinda knew it was the last time but I’m always a optimist when I know things are not going to work out.
Best dog ever, goodbye Marla.