Whoever said pit bulls are evil never met our Marty. He was a kisser, not a biter. Because he was wall-eyed, it was only natural to name him after Marty Feldman. Our Marty loved to ride, go for walks and sneak up on the couch when we weren't home. At barely 9 years old, his life was over. We miss him terribly. He is irreplaceable.
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