Flex was the best dog ever. As a puppy he was chubby and it contradicted his name. But that was Flex, always being different. He was part bulldog and part boxer but he didn't have a mean hair on him. He was the sweetest dog you would ever meet. He loved going for drives in the van and the whole Tim Hortons staff knew his name. Winter was his favorite season. He loved playing in the snow and trying to play with you while you shovel the driveway. No one could ever say no to Flex. He had big brown eyes and whenever he laid his head on his paws and looked at you, there was nothing you could do but smile or laugh. He loved playing with his treat ball, and he ripped every other toy apart. I will never forget how I would get off the treadmill from a run and he would come up to me and lick my sweaty face. It was like he was congratulating me on going for a run. He was motivation to me. He was still a puppy and it is a sin that he never got to live more, but Flex was always the happy dog. I don't think he ever was sad. He was always wagging his short, stubby tail whether he was growling with his ball in his mouth or getting a spank on his bum (which he loved for some odd reason). Anytime I think of Flex, I will remember my first dog ever and I will know that I loved him more than anything and that he loved me more than anything.