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.