Don’t worry Onion. I find onion-head endearing and full of layers.

…Anyway, happy one year of HRT!

I accept my fate now. I am nothing but just a puppy. Sweet and innocent, cute in my naïveté. I have no brain, I cannot speak. The only thing that escapes my lips are whimpers for walks and attention. I am puppy, but I am free.

I resisted for as long as I could, but it was like trying to beat back a calamitous wave of the ocean during a storm with a wooden stick. It was inevitable, it was rewritten on my destiny. My final defense cracked when I finally met my partner. It was only a matter of time.

No, no! This cannot be! I used to be depressed, I used to be unhappy! What is this... insidious happiness pervading my being?! Why do I feel this free and exuberant? Why do I feel the need to get scratched behind my ear? Why do I feel the need to wag my tail?

But then came the urges. They were small at first. The desire to go on a walk. The passing glance at a choker in the store window. The thought to curl up next to someone. The sudden swell of emotions unfamiliar and alien to me. The hyper attention I would give to anyone who snapped their fingers.