Sir Woofrum J. Wigglesbottomworth, aged somewhere about 14 give or take, was helped across the Rainbow Bridge on the evening of Thursday, Nov. 12, 2020.

Likely born in the Georgia backwoods, he was known by his human friends – which were many and true – as Felix, while to his family he was plain ol’ Buddy. Sweeter than he was smart, his difficult early years were put in the rearview mirror on Aug. 29, 2014, when he saved his forever family. Brought together by wonderful angels at Atlanta Boxer Rescue, it was a perfect match from Day 2, after spending the first day trying to turn away his fur sister from eating off his face. Still, he adjusted to indoor living quickly although never fully left the country life behind as he loved a good plop in the sunny grass on a hot day as well as eating an occasional, especially ripe turd he left in the backyard.

Couth was never attained yet Sir Felix was the grand gentleman of his domain, not just because he was the only boy among four animals. He had a wonderful way of crossing his paws as he slid into the ‘down’ position awaiting his morning and evening meals, etching his nails deep into the previously pristine hardwood floors. Really deep. His soft manner and soothing countenance also belied his size. Easily the only 107-pound boxer mix in his neighborhood, he had an innate confidence of knowing his own strength while making fast friends with the littlest humans who he took the most care to knock down repeatedly. He also broke many a knee with his ‘boxer lean.’

Buddy had a funny side that shined brighter than his gnarly smile and sparkling eyes. Known to be the goofiest derper at home and even on walks, of which he was not what one would call a fan, his days grew short and health struggles long yet he enjoyed a leisurely life until the end. His spa days at Blue Sky Farms, spying the goats and horses after getting his nails did, were among his most cherished. And his time on the couch was plentiful, despite his repeated inability to position the pillows, “just the right way.”

Believed to somehow be part cow, horse and dog, he will be most missed for the sound of his floppy ears pounding on each side of his head when trying to wake himself up; his ability to hear the refrigerator door open from a dead sleep in the other room; and his sweetest kisses, especially the teeny, tiny little ones he’d give to his woman human, the vivid memory of which will break his man human’s heart for years to come.

He was preceded across the Bridge by his fur sister Saydee, who he will be boxing with every day at 5 p.m. into eternity. Left here to cherish his stinky memory are Jerry and Sara Trickie, his best humans forever, and the friends he always wanted but never was able to convince it was a safe dalliance, Glenda and F’ing, the damn cats.

In lieu of flowers or cards, memorial donations can be made in the name of Felix Trickie to Atlanta Boxer Rescue in the suggested amount of $5.99, equal to the cost of a bag of his favorite treats, Brauts-N-Tots Kitchen Bites.