When I adopted Marley without Brooks I was a bit nervous; not because I worried Brooks wouldn’t agree with my choice, but more so because I thought my choice might be poor. Brooks assured me that all dogs are good dogs and my choice would be perfect.

When little B and I laid eyes on Marley we knew he was ours. He looked sorrowful and sweet, all at once. They told us he was three and upon bringing him home I wondered at our luck: he was so mellow and easy.

We didn’t realize that our poor Marley had contracted Kennel Cough. A few days after brooks came home to us from Iraq it became obvious something wasn’t right: his appetite was waning and he no longer desired water. A diagnosis and medication followed.

And then we slowly became introduced to our Marley: sweet, goofy, playful, loving, still very much a puppy Marley.

Marley makes us laugh, constantly. Even when he’s being puppy “naughty” he cracks me up. When he drinks water it ends up EVERYWHERE. It’s endearing, really. He likes to take a few bites of food followed by sloppy mouthfuls of water. He talks when he’s frustrated and wanting to get his point across or to get our attention. He bounds around outside,so joyful to be let out to do his business. He has an affinity for Brooks’s wooden play food, really, most of his toys. When we take the no-nos away he looks hurt and confused in an endearing way. He gives hugs when we’re busy doing other stuff. He loves getting in bed with us but is too scared to jump off. He forgoes his own bed, preferring to sleep on the rug, all laid out. He thinks little man is a walking dog toy, much to Little Man’s chagrin. He pulls out most of his toys out of the toy basket and then  looks at me to keep him busy, nuzzling  me with his head all the while. Marley and may have reached an agreement of sorts: they play and sleep together but give each other space too.

I can’t imagine our family without Marley now. He’s ours for keeps and we can’t wait till he’s one hundred percent better.

 

 

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