Jami Wishes Joxer a Happy Decade

I started this post yesterday, on Joxer's birthday, but time constraints and issues with the image sizing frustrated me until I quit. Joxer is our dog. He's half dachshund and half chihuahua, and he turned 10 years old. A decade. I can't believe it. When we bought our house, the first thing I wanted was a dog. A dog means you're home. It means you're responsible grown-ups (ha!). A dog is like a kid that you don't have to get a babysitter for if you want to go to a movie. I wasn't ready for babies, but I wanted a puppy so badly I could smell that sweet baby-doggy scent in my sleep. The first two weekends after we moved, we went to shelters and scoured the local papers. The purebreds were too expensive. The shelters had no puppies, and no small dogs - all larger ones. I cried on the way home that second Sunday; all I wanted was a little furball to love. How could it be so hard? The Husband found an add in the paper the next day. I called and the day after that we went to meet the puppy. He was the second of two, and his sister had already been sold. His mother was a purebred 20 lb dachshund, and his daddy the mischievous 8 lb chihuahua who lived next door and found a way through the fence when love was in the air. The woman selling the puppies guessed he'd be no more than 12 lbs fully grown (he's 18). He was just under three pounds when we brought him home. 8 weeks and a day old. We named him Joxer on the ride home, after Ted Raimi's character in Xena. Basically, either you get the reference already, or you probably won't. Joxer's a great dog. He's been with us through some hard times and all the good ones. Our practice baby, the poor dog has been dressed in Halloween costumes, pajamas and hockey jerseys, taken to "puppy school" and even had his picture done on Santa's lap. Though little, he's got a mean bark and just knowing he's here helps me get to sleep the nights the Husband works past midnight. He endured, with some grace, the arrival of his "little brother" Eddie. When I cry, he'll sit on my lap and nudge my face. He's been in the library, the church and the video store with me. Eddie calls him"my friend, Joxer". I get scared sometimes, when I think how old he is in dog-time. Our time with him is probably more than half over and that breaks my heart. I can't even imagine this house without him, even on the days I scream "If you don't stop barking, you're going to the pound, Mister!" Happy Birthday, Joxer. Good boy! Good doggy!