In Memory of Joiku

In Memory of Joiku

This tag belonged to Joiku.
Still does, really.
That part hasn’t changed.

He was my ride-or-die, my shadow, my home. The love of my life. The only thing I ever loved more than being alive.

He wasn’t just a dog—he was my companion in the deepest sense of the word.

We geocached together. We ran wild through forests. He pulled me on my bike like we were flying. He swam in summer lakes, chased balls like his life depended on it, and begged for food like it was his job and we pulled each other through life in more ways than one.

He was kind. Gentle. Brave. The kind of beast that made the world less cruel just by existing.

And now he’s gone.

We had a good run. I miss him more than I know how to say.

But I’m not ready to let him go.

So this tag stays with me for now—clipped to my everyday backpack, riding shotgun like he always did. He would’ve hated to leave me, and honestly, I hate it too. Keeping him close is my way of holding on while I learn how to live with this hole in my chest.

One day, maybe, I’ll release this tag to keep his journey going. But not yet.
For now, Joiku’s still with me.

Joiku – My Geocaching K9

Joiku was my personal geocaching K9 unit—fully trained, always eager, and proudly on the job since 2013.

I started training him for geocaching before he even turned one, and over time, we became a solid team. His markings were sharp, reliable, and sometimes eerily accurate—though, like any good tracker, he could get thrown off when too many humans had been hanging around the cache.

Joiku was a purebred White Swiss Shepherd, born on June 17, 2012. Officially, his job was being a family dog. Unofficially? He was everything. We also spent time in obedience work and dryland mushing, and he was always ready to try something new—so long as we did it together.

You couldn’t miss him: bright white fur like moonlight through snow, a presence that turned heads, and an olive green collar with “M1-K9” stitched in black. Majestic, unmistakable, mine.

By nature, Joiku was kind, sociable, and welcoming. That said, he had a strong guarding instinct—so if you ever crossed paths with us in the wild and heard loud barking, don’t panic. That was just his way of saying “hang on, I’m checking if you’re cool.”
The best way to handle it? Walk right up, say hi, start talking—and you’d have 34 kilos of dog climbing into your lap before you could blink. Bribery also worked. Especially food. Especially if it was yours.

He wasn’t just trained—he was trusted. Not just a teammate—my heart on four legs.

And wherever I went, he went too.

Joiku died on November 29, 2024. He was 12 years, 5 months, and 12 days old.
We had a good run. I still carry him with me.