Old Man Henry

Henry has been my faithful companion for 13 years. My family got him as a young pup when I was 16 years old. Originally he was supposed to be my dad’s dog. However, we quickly formed a bond and he has been with me through all of the ups and downs of my teenage and early adult years. Not only has Henry been an important part of my life for all those years, but he is a daily physical reminder of my dad who died two days after my high school graduation.

I can’t talk or think about Henry dying without tearing up. Partially because he is my dog, and I love
him, but also in part because of the history and connection he has with my dad. Luckily for me he is still in great health. Besides a little deafness (which I am pretty sure is actually just selective hearing) and cloudy eyes, Henry is still spry and active.

The funny thing about Henry is that he has always been an old man, even when he was just a little guy. He is a bit nervous and crotchety, but also listens well and hates to be reprimanded. He doesn’t cause much drama at the house, although he did have a recent stint of “wandering” off to the neighbor’s house. They were feeding him steak tri-tips, no wonder he couldn’t resist! Mostly Henry just hangs around the house, hoping someone will drop food on the floor. He sleeps in an old suitcase, which we make sometimes off-color jokes about. And he has his own “voice”, if you've ever been to my house you've probably heard it. :) About the only farm thing he does is the occasional rodent control. He can kill a rat, mole, or bunny in a flash. Usually he just ends up killing rodents after Noodle the cat has been torturing them and I don’t want them to suffer anymore.

How it began

 I’ve always been a total animal nut. It started with cats as a toddler and progressed from there.  I grew up on a hobby farm in Wisconsin, so there were always lots of animals hanging around the house.  We had a variety of animals, but I think my two favorite farm animals were probably chickens and goats. We had pygmy goats, so their babies were extra cute.  The picture below was taken after we had two does both give birth to twins on the same day. Don’t laugh, this is the mid-90’s and I am wearing my “barn jacket”.  Hidden underneath that fabulous jacket is a pair of striped bib overalls. My dad and I's uniform of choice.

Several years later, for my 17^th birthday, my parents got me a sweet little alpine bottle goat. His name was Reese. This is a picture of him being lovingly smooshed by my friend Brittany.  I’d have to say he was my most memorable birthday present.   

Reese was an unusual goat in that he was the only goat we had at the time, so he thought our dogs were his herd. He would run around the yard with the dogs, and jump into your car if he had the chance.  When we moved away from Wisconsin, Reese went to another farm to be spoiled by some other animal loving kids.

I knew when we moved from Wisconsin that someday I wanted to have my own little farm again.  With the arrival of my goats this spring I achieved that goal.
 

The beginning

I had never even thought of creating a blog.  It seemed like too much work, and frankly my life is pretty boring. But at work today we were talking about some of the critters on my little farm and I was promised at least two readers (and I'm sure my mom will read this too) so I thought, "what the heck, I'll do it."  I'll try to keep you all updated on all of the mundane details of my haphazard attempt at "farming".  I use that term loosely, as I don't actually farm, more like I collect random animals and waste a lot of money on them. I'll try to post pictures, and keep you abreast of the mating rituals of my tiny rooster. Sounds exciting, right?