Joxer The Mighty, Part Two

Last month, I wrote about my dearly departed dog Joxer.

Losing him was especially hard on the Sweet Man

because although Joxer loved all of us,  he primarily was the Sweet Man's dog.

There wasn't much I could do 

except remind him that we really gave Joxer a good long doggy life,

but then on Pinterest I saw this:

IggyStarpup, from whom I had bought this adorable Totoro embroidery hoop...

... had a custom listing for pets.

In the listing, she suggested that they would make a nice memorial for pets who had gone.

Now I knew what I wanted to do for the Sweet Man.

For Joxer's clothes, the Boy suggested "street urchin," 

since Joxer had been a stray before he joined our home.

I sent IggyStarpup a photo of Joxer and this image as a clothes reference...

... and she got to work.

In less than a week, this arrived in the mail:

Isn't it wonderful?

The Sweet Man loved it,

and now Joxer is back in the office,

watching over the Sweet Man.

Joxer The Mighty

Fourteen years ago,

a neighbor found an injured puppy scavenging for food at her school.

He had bat ears, stubby legs, and a jaunty tail.

We named him "Joxer," for this guy on Xena Warrior Princess:

They both had a goofy charm, so the name fit.

He was, in the way of dogs, everyone's best friend,

and he became a part of our family.

He kept us company and entertained us,

and we loved our --in the words of an amused passerby--

 "funny-lookin', big-headed dog."

But as he got older, his bum knee was joined by a bad back,

and then creaky hips, 

and then everything just seemed to fall apart.

The Sweet Man and I wryly joked that we only had to clean up his messes

on days that ended in "y,"

and we wondered if we should buy stock in these...

 ...since we surely 

were moving some serious inventory.

But through it all he always tottered to his feet,

tail slowly wagging despite his pain,

glad to see us.

Several times we thought he was already gone,

and then he was so bad off we started hoping he was already gone,

but he was like a soldier who wouldn't desert his post.

He was our dog, and he wasn't going to give up.

We realized we were going to relieve him of his post,

and we did the last, kind thing that a pet owner can do.

As the vet gave him the injection,

we stroked his head and whispered to him,

"Good dog, good dog... you've always been a good dog."

Because he was.

He was always our good dog.