11/28/2024
Forever and always, Ole Man. You were one of a kind. 🌈🐾
Today, we said goodbye to our beloved OJ, our “Ole Man,” after many incredible years together. From the moment he chose Robert, he was special—he was the only puppy who cared more about people than playing. That never changed. OJ was our dog through and through, a soul who loved nothing more than a good pet, a car ride (ideally ending with a pup cup or pepperoni stick), and of course, food.
He was a runner, and the best fetcher we’ve ever known. We used to joke he’d play fetch until his heart gave out if we let him. And while a knee surgery slowed him down, it never stopped him. In the past few years, he showed us what resilience really looks like, battling cancer like the champion he was—earning the title of “our 90-year-old who kicked cancer’s ass.”
OJ wasn’t much of a cuddler, but he made up for it with his demand for pets and his undeniable charm. He’d have sold our souls for a single stale French fry and made it known he expected his meals at very precise intervals. And we were happy to oblige.
Now, OJ runs free on the rainbow bridge, where his vision and hearing are perfect, his body is strong, and his heart is full. He’s probably with his old friend Diggler and the brother he never met, Nike—getting endless pets, stealing French fries, and running like nothing’s holding him back.
OJ, there won’t be a day that I won’t remember you. You were more than a dog—you were family, my constant companion, and my heart. The cruelest part of this life is how short it feels. Fly high, baby. Steal every French fry, run to your heart’s content, and demand pets from everyone you meet.
As my niece said, “Next time I see a rainbow, I’ll think of you.” Forever and always, Ole Man. You were one of a kind. We love you beyond measure. 💔🌈
