Jo C Peppy Sprite

My wife, Annie, got Josey when she was only 6 weeks old. I didn’t meet her until she was 5. Practically middle aged, but still a puppy at heart. She took to me immediately- something that my wife said she had never seen happen before. My wife informed me that Josey would be sleeping in the bed with us at night- I told her that wasn’t an option. Annie said fine, but that I would have to tell Josey myself- that was one of many arguments with Josey that I lost. Last night was the first time that we slept in our bed without her. Unfortunately, it won’t be the last. She was my friend, and a truer and more faithful companion I will never know. > > My wife and I went away for the weekend and left Josey with some friends. It was our last getaway together before I deploy to Iraq. At some point during the weekend she escaped from their fenced-in yard and was hit by a police car. Our friends told us that when they noticed she was gone they ran around the front of the house calling her name. When they got to the front yard they saw a police cruiser pulled over with the officer standing in front of his car looking down at Josey. Crying. It was over instantly- she didn’t suffer. For that I am grateful. > > Josey only weighed 6 pounds. It must have all been heart. It has only been 4 days since I saw her last, and I miss her terribly. I don’t know when, or if, this feeling will go away. She used to follow me around the house, finding a suitable place to lie down in whatever room I was in. More often than not this was my lap. When she went to bed with us she would always go under the covers and lie between my calves- every night I would move her further down and towards my wife’s side of the bed. Every morning I would wake up with her between my calves again. Occasionally when I couldn’t sleep I would reach down and search for her with my foot- feeling her warm fur always reassured me that all was right in the world. > > This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to look after Annie while I was gone, to comfort her during the long nights alone, to always be there for her. She was supposed to live forever. > > I miss you Josey. I miss knowing that no matter what had happenned during the day, no matter what the opinion of anyone may have been about me, you would always be happy to see me. You would always do the happy dog dance and howl at me like you were trying to tell me that you loved me, that you missed me and were glad to see me. I miss the way you would crawl up under my shirt when you were cold. I even miss you playing with that orange squeaky ball that my sister gave you- even though sometimes you wouldn’t stop squeaking it until I took it from you and put it up. If I could do it again I would never have taken it from you. I would have taken you on more walks. I would have played with you more. Our house is a big, empty, and cold place without you. > > Strangers would find it curious to see a grown man crying over you. A man who has worked a series of rough, dangerous jobs. A combat veteran. Yet the tears still fall. You meant more to me than I can put into words. I hope to see you at the rainbow bridge someday. Good bye good girl. >

Funeral Home:
All Paws Great and Small Crematory
5611 E. Houston St.
San Antonio, TX
US 78220