Henry, Henry, Henry

Yes, this is my weekend: it's all about the pooch, Henry. My mutt, my hound, my big, strong and fast dog. Everything I do on a Saturday and Sunday is with him in mind. I have not worked hard on leaving him alone (we're still only on one minute) and so he comes with me wherever I go. Which of course means I only go to doggie places. Too, I need to fit in two solid runs for him each day if I want him to get the dose of movement that makes for a happy pup. So, if you don't like dogs, or at least do not like reading about a life with a dog, then Ocean is probably not great for you on weekends. I make no apologies, because I really don't choose the topics here -- they seem to choose me. If my day turned out to be full of skunk adventures, you'd be reading about skunks. 

Henry woke me at 6:25 today. I forgave the five minute earliness, because I was right smack in the middle of a dream whereby I had taken some recreational drug (believe me, so not my thing!) and found out too late that it was loaded with fentanyl. How I should dream about something so tragic and unrelated to my existence is beyond me. My usual "unfortunate event" dreams are about missing a flight or not leaving a hotel room on time. Really!

It's cold outside this morning. 28F/-2C. Frost on grasses. 

I hesitated about putting a sweater on Henry. I know he doesn't need it yet, but he seems not to like the cold and so why not? Well, these decisions are better made at some other time, not in the minutes after I wake up. Let's say that my cut off point will rest at 25F/-4C going forward. In any event, today he relies on his own coat. 

Breakfast. 

 

 

 

I give him a dental stick to chew on after his meal. This has been standard procedure now, but I have noticed that he is not especially enthusiastic about dental sticks, no matter what the "flavor." In fact, it is the only edible item that he takes willingly enough, but then proceeds to hide it -- in the crevice of his bed, in his toy bin, behind a couch cushion. Is he afraid I may take it away from him? Henry, you are very poor at hiding things. I know all your secret places!

(my lap dog)

We have an appointment this morning. You wont believe what I signed him up for! A photo with Santa. I could have chosen one with the Grinch, but I do not get the point of that. Okay, I dont really get the point of me paying for a photo with Santa either, but the event was organized as a fundraiser for rescue animals at Shelter from the Storm -- the shelter that brought me Henry. Of course I want to support them!

Since the photo session is to take place at the Community Vet Center (which is linked to Shelter from the Storm) on the east side of town (I live on the west), I virtually pass the farmette to get to it. Ed wants to come along (he likes the place because it's where he had all the cats spayed at a very low cost!), so I pick him up and we head to this Santa Paws event at the Vet Center.

It's a good thing that Ed is there with me. Henry really likes Ed and feels safe around him. I think it's only because both of us were there to protect him that Henry (eventually) allowed himself to be manipulated into position in a small room, with a bizarre human dressed like no one he'd ever seen, having no dog skills whatsoever (aren't Santas supposed to love animals?), with another human standing behind, dressed in clothes that someone thought to be elf material, with a fixed pasty smile that stayed there no matter what was happening in the room. 

Because Henry has good sit-stay skills ingrained in him, I could coax him (eventually) into this tableau. For a few seconds. The photographer snapped away and finally said -- I think this will do, showing me her best photo. Well, you got the Santa and the Elf, but my Henry is cut in half. I thought she would bang me over the head with her camera for that comment, but she agreed to try again, despite the fact that howling dogs were waiting for their turn. In a few days she will email me her efforts. In a few days?? Why wait when I have my own version of the morning's event! Here you are, Santa, hanging on way too tightly to Henry's beautiful mistletoe collar (purchased for the holidays), the "elf," and my beautiful, exquisite and ever trusting of Ed and me Henry. 

Afterwards, we went went out back so that Henry could relieve himself. We came upon a coop with roosters (probably rescued roosters) and Henry is absolutely fascinated by chickens of any sort. This was a high point for him.

 And from there, we drove over to the dog park that's next to the farmette. Another high point!

(finally, I get to see his mistletoe collar)

 

 

Freedom!

Oh, how my dog romped!

We dropped Ed off afterwards, and returned home. Warm and cozy, so very welcoming after a very chilly outing.

(what happens when a dog is too big for a couch...)

(my idea of a noon snack...)

As Henry napped, it struck me that I should put up the Christmas tree with him watching. He hates being surprised. True, I've never put together a fake Christmas tree before, and I had already gotten Ed to agree to come over sometime to do it with me, but on the other hand, I'm not sure when that "sometime" would be, and though you may think it's early for a tree, I'll agree only that it's early to decorate a tree. As I said in a previous post, these trees are expensive this year! May as well enjoy it in this period before Christmas. And teach Henry to enjoy it as well. Or at least be indifferent to it.

I had purchased a tree that's tall but sparsely branched. The main room in the apartment is small. You don't want to overwhelm the place. Nor do I want to block the light coming in through the balcony window. 

It was amazingly easy to put together! They supply the stand. You literally snap three pieces together, and push back the branches, and you're set! Wow! I may never go back to a live tree. I have officially become an "old person!"

And because I did the job with Henry watching, he really was quite okay with the new addition. He routinely eats bits of the rosemary bush in the bedroom. He shows no interest (so far) in nibbling on the fake tree branches. (The tree seems big, but the minute you stand Henry next to it, it seems small!)

Of course, Henry does need (according to me) a second romp in the later afternoon. That's easy: we go to Penni Klein, our nearest dog run. There, he meets Henry. Yup, the only other dog there today is also a Henry.

My Henry finds a ball and tosses it for himself. A dog that has had to in life to play ball by himself. 

 

 

 

And of course, it's dusk by the time we return to the Edge.  Henry is happy to nap. I am happy that he is happy to nap. We've practiced "touch" and I'm starting on my own to get him thinking about "lie down." He deserves a break from everything! And I want to read my mystery novel!

 with so much love...