Mr teeth is my dog, or at least he was. I never wanted a dog. When two of my friends from college moved into my new home they came with more baggage then I expected. the two of them were a couple, and after offering to board up together over the summer in my new home I was surprised to see how willing they were. The day they moved in things changed though. They brought with them four family dogs that my friends mother had forced upon them, The dogs were all on the smaller side and spent a good bit of their time sleeping so I figured we would get along fine. All of them accept Tyler that is. His tiny furry form shuffling and clicking along the wood floors of my home at all hours of the night would soon became an unnerving staple in the list of sounds regularly made by my new home. You see; unlike Toby, Garry, and baily, Tyler was disfigured and had lost all of his teeth after a vicious attack by a larger dog. He was also the oldest by around three years. He wasn’t a mean or angry dog, just a sweet little chihuahua terrier mix who would spend time sitting in your lap or on his back getting scratched as quickly as any other dog. But there was something wrong with Tyler. After his Attack and the removal of his teeth Tyler could only eat soft food from a can. I couldn’t stand to be around the stuff, the smell made me Ill and just the look of the stuff had ruined ground beef for me for life. But it was all he could eat so I kept buying it for him. The thing is he hated the food even more than I did. He would eat it, but I grew to suspect that it was only out of hunger and desperation. Whenever another one of the dogs was being fed Tyler was always there, standing in the background staring. If one of them left the bowl of food unattended he would always walk up to it and just stand there, looking at the bowl of food. I know that none of this sounds all too strange after he lost his teeth, and even after I started to notice this stuff I didn’t really pay it any mind, until the Fourth of July. That year it fell on a Friday and we decided to go out to a picnic and firework show. With the pets all fed and left to roam our home we packed the car and went off to enjoy our day. When we returned home late that night, slightly drunk and anxious to be off the road and back home, we almost didn’t notice at first that is one of the dogs was missing. Bailey and Garry ran right up to us at the front door, Tyler followed a moment later, dwelling at the food bowl before coming to see what was going on. Later that night, we found old Toby laying in the kitchen dead.