A nonfiction piece by Anonymous
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"Marley. That's what we'll call him! Just like the movie because he's so naughty!" I laughed. The waggly dog had two eyes that almost seemed animated with so much cuteness and personality inside of them. His tail beat at least 20 miles an hour and would wack you in the face if you got too close to him. He and his brother Murphy would spend the days sleeping in the sun, and dreaming about chasing squirrels, that they never were able to catch in person. Marley's name eventually wore off, but they were still naughty puppies and liked to talk. We came home one day to find the couch shredded up, but this would be the least of their future punishments to top. One pitch-black night we rolled up into the driveway, and my parents knew something was wrong; the dogs had broken our stained glass windows, a family heirloom-and one of a kind. I had to yell at Marley and his sweet cocoa eyes and spank him with a spoon, which made me cry. After that, the puppies became dogs, and Murphy tended to be the naughty one causing us impatience and chaos.
On a sunny morning, we couldn't find Marley. We called his name and searched around the house, puzzled about where our dog could have lingered. My dad took a chance and looked into the cold basement, where Marley lay uncomfortably quiet. He wouldn't move, but he was still alive, but something was wrong with his puppy dog eyes. His tail didn't waggle, wack, or thump- but laid flat like he had lost a part of him. We took Marley to the vet and spent thousands of dollars. Watching doctors drop cotton balls fall to the ground while Marley's head didn't move around. The universe had decided our energetic boy's fate, and with time he would lose both eyes, but he never stopped wagging his tail until the day he died.
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