Marsha is a Christmas puppy! No, I mean that. She was born on Christmas day, way back in 2006. She adopted us in March of 2007 and the boys were crazy about her. Well, all the boys except one. Our Pekingese, Tyson, was far from thrilled with the new addition.
Tyson was rescued from a high kill shelter by my husband, Jay. We found him online, and anxiously awaited the number of days until he could officially be put up for adoption. We never knew his exact age, but the shelter and the vet each assumed he was between 5 and 7 years old. We had him for a few years, and he was my sidekick. Tyson would follow me everywhere, and wait for me at the door if I left the home. This totally put Jay out. Jay would try to bribe him with treats as he whispered "I was the one who got you out of that awful place" but it was to no avail.
And then one day, Jay came busting into my place of work, beaming that he found the perfect pup. He dragged me to look at her. There were two puppies - a little white one and a little brown one. Jay was head over heals for the white one. She was so tiny. When we took her home, she would sleep inside of Jay's shoe. We decided she looked like a marshmallow, and after running through a few names, we settled on Marsha. We didn't think at the time that every time someone new would hear her name, they would exclaim, "Marsha, Marsha, Marsha!" OK, us middle-aged people. The kids have no clue what that is. It took about a month for Tyson to decide she could stay, and from that day on, they were inseparable.
I was secretly thrilled! A little girl dog, in a house filled with testosterone! I could dress her in pink and put little ribbons in her fur. She, on the other hand, had other ideas. Any ribbon put on her was immediately ripped off. She passed gas like a pro - shaming the boys with her burps and farts. She even lifted her leg when she peed. And she won our hearts.
This month we celebrate her fourteenth birthday. Marsha has slowed down, is 100% deaf, and about 50% blind. And while she doesn't fit inside Jay's shoes anymore, she still loves to lay on top of them.
I'll be writing about some of our favorite times with Marsha, and her big (but younger) brother Moose.
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