Story submitted 2018-08-28

Josie was born circa 2004 somewhere down south, maybe in a puppy mill. One day in November 2006 Lindsay decided we needed a second dachshund to keep Napoleon company. So she found a shy little girl dog through the Dachshund Rescue of North America (DRNA), paid the adoption fee, and agreed that we would drive down to pick the dog up from its foster home in North Carolina that Saturday.

Then she sent me a picture of Josie and asked if I might have interest in getting a second dog.

We named her Josephine, to match her “brother” Napoleon. She was named Zoe by the Georgia couple who first had her. They got evicted from their apartment, left a malnourished “Zoe” with a neighbor and split town. Then the DRNA listed her online as Sandi. But for us she was Josephine, but more often Josie, Jo Jo, or The Bird (we can’t remember why we started calling her The Bird, but it stuck).

Josie moved to Petworth in DC before it was cool to live here. She owned our backyard, charging at any squirrels who dared step on her turf, and claimed our whole block when she barked at anyone who walked down the street. She killed more than one possum in our back yard over the years and nipped a couple UPS delivery guys. She was a tough Bird.

Once Lindsay and I had Linden and then George, Josie took her reduction of attention with grace and settled into Naplife. She enjoyed treats and cuddles, and seemed to tolerate the occasional uninvited love from the kids. She was doted upon, and I know she appreciated it.
Every night my routine is this: after the kids go to sleep I come downstairs, do the dishes, and generally clean up whatever giant mess the kids have left in the living room. At some point therein, Josie thumps down the stairs and demands at least one treat. Then, at bedtime for me I carry Josie up to her bed in our room and give her my tshirt as a blanket.

We are really going to miss her. She was an absolute fixture in our life. She was, in every way, a good girl.