Meet Marshall

Hi. I’m Marshall. Born August 6, 2021—the same day as my human mommy, Cassie. That’s right, we shared a birthday. Destiny? Obviously. From the moment I opened my eyes, I knew I was meant to be part of something big. And loud. And loving.

Coming home was like stepping into a dream. I had human brothers and sisters to herd (they needed it, I promise!), couches to conquer, and a backyard that smelled like adventure. Cassie was my anchor—soft voice, strong heart. Thomas was my fixer, my protector, my “let’s figure this out” guy. Together, they were my pack.

I was a herder by nature. If you moved, I followed. If you ran, I chased. If you laughed, I barked like, “Keep it going!” I took my job seriously—rounding up my kids, nudging ankles, keeping order in the chaos. Everyone I met got the Marshall treatment: a sniff, a nub-wag, and a pinecone.

Oh yeah. Pinecones. My obsession. My calling. My gift to the world.

I could sniff one out in seconds, trot over like I’d found buried treasure, and drop it at your feet with a look that said, “Throw it. Now.” Didn’t matter who you were—kid, adult, stranger—I believed everyone deserved a pinecone moment. And if you didn’t throw it? I’d stare. Intensely. And bark loudly for you to hear my every word. Until you threw it.

Life was good. Fast. Wild. I ran like the wind, played like a fool, and loved like it was my job.

Then came the fall.

I don’t remember the exact moment, just the pain. My leg—my strong, herding, pinecone-fetching leg—was broken. Thomas was there in a flash, Cassie close behind. They tried everything. But the spiral fracture that came after jumping for (you guessed it) a pinecone, showed its cruel self in the picture frame. My leg couldn’t be saved.

They took it. I woke up missing a piece of me. But I wasn’t broken. I was reborn.

Three legs? No problem. I adapted. I pivoted. I still herded, still fetched, still loved. I was Marshall, after all. The three-legged wonder. The pinecone king. The heart of the house.

But the problems didn’t stop. There was a sneaky and cruel thing lurking in my body... an infection! It spread slowly at first, but grew rapidly out of control, without my pack knowing what was happening, then I got tired. Slower. My body was fading, even as my spirit burned bright.

On my last day, the sun was gentle. Cassie held me, whispering birthday memories and soft goodbyes. Thomas stroked my fur like he was memorizing every strand. My kids, the ones I protected for years, held me and loved me. I felt safe. I felt loved. I felt...ready.

I closed my eyes, wrapped in the warmth of my pack.

But don’t mourn me too long. I lived loud. I loved hard. I herded like a boss and fetched pinecones like a legend. I was Marshall. Born on a day of love. Gone on a day of peace.

And somewhere, just beyond the trees, I’m still chasing pinecones—waiting for you to throw the next one.