Henry and his kittens...

Since the day Henry came home, he's been pretty interested (obsessed) with the cats. Meet Marley and Tallulah:

Marley is a seven year old domestic longhair cat who was adopted from the Michigan Humane Society in August 2006--- she spent her first couple of years, traveling. First, we spend time in Rochester Hills, then East Lansing, then Quebec and back to Rochester. She's a talker. She loves to yell and will do damned near anything to find out what is in the can you just opened.

Tallulah is going to be 5 years old on October 3--- she and Henry share a birthday! She was my first foster failure from Michigan Humane Society. She came home with me at only four weeks of age! (It's a rather good story: a lady came into MHS with a duct taped cardboard box and welding gloves describing the vicious feral cat she caught... with her welding gloves... worried about the neighborhood children. Out pops lil' Lou... She had my heart.) Lou tries to talk, but has a broken meow-er. She's close to obsessed with Chris and sleeps between our feet every night. Lou loves dogs; Kira is her best friend.

When Henry came home, it took  him all of 42 seconds to realize that there were cats in the house--- he had sisters! Best. Day. Ever.

Tallulah was curious. Marley was... nowhere to be found. Tallulah's curiosity continued for awhile, until Henry decided that they were going to snuggle and darn near broke her spine. She decided to watch from afar while Marley was... still nowhere to be found.

Eventually, Marley came out to say eff you hello and the result was a sad puppy with a scratched nose.

But Henry didn't give up and eventually peaceful coexistence reigned. I mean, it was inevitable; Henry preferred cat toys, he loved hanging out with the cats, and he basically wanted to be a cat. #identitycrisis

Henry and Marley, watching TV with Ma

Henry prefers cat toys; occasionally he walks up to me and 2-3 fall out of his jowls.

Marley, Henry and Kira.

Nothing was more exciting for Henry than when Mom and Chris brought home foster kittens. Seven kittens, different ages, all interested in puppies joined our little family, and albeit (mostly) temporary, Henry was elated!

At this point, I think it's important that I remind you that Henry doesn't realize quite how big he is. For fear of him crushing kittens, every interaction had to be slow and controlled. Henry was told to lay down and stay, and forced to let the kittens crawl on him. Eventually, he became very comfortable with little kitten feet and little kitten kisses. He even picked out his favorite kitten and made sure that the munchkin knew just how loved and protected he was!

Adorable snuggles.

Watch them love each other in action!

 He loved the boogers so much that we ended up letting him keep one! Bruce was the little orange male tabby who was always one of the most social in the litter. He loved Henry, Kira, Tallulah and Marley. He was the perfect fit! So Bruce got to stay. Everybody, meet Bruce, Henry's favorite kitten!

 

And finally, as an added treat, watch Henry attempt to be a kitten while playing with Bruce's laser pointer.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10103552711125244&l=8633758511020387856

Lost pets--- a serious post.

There is nothing more heartbreaking to a loving pet owner than the loss of a pet; there is nothing more frightening than literally losing a pet. Those of you that know me best, know that my family dog, Spencer, wandered off last night.

 

When my first family dog passed away in middle school, Spencer was in his mama's belly in Royal Oak. He came into our live that winter/spring and has been around ever since. In all of that time, he's never wandered off--- ever. Not once. Not even to go for a quick run. He's been so trustworthy for nearly a decade and a half that he no longer was confined by fence or lead. Spence just hangs out.

Last night, my handsome old man walked off. See, at his age, I'm pretty certain he's losing his mind a little bit. He's adopting behaviors that are simply not him--- I didn't realize this fully until last night. Coming home after dinner, my man just wasn't here. Henry was here, Gus was here, Spencer wasn't.

I cruised around the neighborhood, walked up and down the surrounding blocks, calling his name and whistling. If there is one thing Spencer does well, it's listen to commands. Despite my best efforts, he didn't show up. As I walked and called, Sarah joined the search. Then Aunt Cindy and cousins Jack and Roman. The neighbor kids were outside and heard my calls--- they too hopped on their bikes. When their parents questions where they had gotten off to, rather than reprimanding them from traveling too far, they grabbed their bikes.

As it got dark, I resigned myself to one simple fact: If Spencer didn't come, he didn't hear us. That meant there were two options: (1) Spencer is old. I admittedly walk up to him to ensure he's still breathing a couple times a day. It was a very real possibility that he found a sunny spot and crossed the rainbow bridge. (2) Somebody had my dog.

I went inside, and despite being the biggest chicken shit cautious girl I am, I had the screen door open and was sleeping in the family room in case he showed up. I scoured the web for found dog posts. No luck.

Then, my doorbell rang. Options for 11:00pm visitors : (1) Babcia saying that Dziadzi cut off another finger. (2) Rapers. Axe murders. (3) Somebody who might've found my dog. I looked through the peep hole--- a stranger. That eliminated option number one. I quickly weighed the risks: worth it. The neighbor quickly explained that she was contacted by her sister-in-law who saw a lost dog on the internet resembling her "neighbor's dog." Are you kidding?! More information led to a phone call.

Spencer was found in the intersection of two moderately busy surface streets. A wonderful woman picked him up. Not knowing what to do, she took him to the local Animal Control (which was closed) and left him in the pens designed for after-hours pet drop off. She contacted the appropriate authorities to let them know he was there. They said they'd be by in an hour to let him in... 3 hours ago.

I went anyway. He was there. He is safe and sound at home, growling at Henry as he did back in February:

After a decade and a half of not walking off, Mr. Man now has to be tied out, which is okay with me as long as he's safe.

All of this is to share a very important message: IDENTIFY YOUR PETS. Spencer wasn't wearing his collar yesterday. Keep collars on your pets at all times, no matter what their track record. Microchip your pets--- for the pain of a needle poke, your pet can be scanned and identified by nearly every veterinarian. Keep your microchip information up-to-date by contacting the issuing company. Use leads, leashes, and fencing appropriately; remember, your dog wandering off isn't the only possibility for a missing pet. Pet theft had gone up by huge percentages.

If, heaven forbid, your pet turns up missing, call your local police department's non-emergency line. GO TO YOUR LOCAL ANIMAL SHELTERS--- do not use a phone and trust a stranger on the other end of the line to ID your pet. Visit shelters every couple of days so that you visit within your state's legal holding period for strays. Use social media to get the word around. Visit lost/found pet forums, Craig's List, etc...

And if you find a pet, make sure you report it to the appropriate agencies and get the word spread. People trying to do the right thing occasionally take in strays without ever giving a family the chance to find their beloved family member.

Having come from a shelter background, I can attest to the number of pets that lose their families. I can also attest to the fact that families that follow the above steps will often find their pets. 

Hittin' the gym

So... I'm home visiting my family before the semester starts kicking my ass starts getting its ass kicked, and I'm finally trying to be really good about working out and eating right #lazysummer. My treadmill has been at my dad's since I've moved up to school, but being home, I thought I'd take the opportunity to use it. (Who has a truck and muscles and wants to bring this beast up to State?) What I didn't expect was that I'd be kicked off of the treadmill before I even got going...

I got dressed and climbed aboard while Henry ran about in the basement, looking for a place to bury the rawhide he's been trying to hide from Spencer. No sooner did I get the evil running machine going than I felt a big, wet nose poking at my bum... "Henry, back up!" I signed. "Get back!" "Henry, no!" And yet, somehow, I was pushed off the machine.

I usually have control of my dog, but when he's bigger... and stronger... sometimes his persistence wins. This time, I decided to go with it. I turned off the machine. And let him stand where I was. I held his collar and turned the speed from 0.0 to 0.5. Terrified, Henry jumped off. #thefloorismoving

So, I decided to try this another way. I turned the machine on again (to 0.5 mph) and just let Henry figure it out on his own:

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10103754123832564&l=7515901819909742325

The first minute was a little rough, as you can see. But my little booger has a learning curve like none other (I mean, the deaf dog speaks for Pete's sake).

And after a minute or two, this was the result:

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10103754119725794&l=3595286541004274105

This morning, I woke up to a whining dog. I opened my eyes to make sure he wasn't looking for a spot to poo (I think it's finally safe to say that we're 100% housebroken after several months of a 96% grading). My little punk was standing on the treadmill, ready to run! This morning, we got up to 1.5 mph, and then enjoyed the sun. Since then, I've found him on the treadmill twice. I have a little athlete on my hands.

Quick but exciting!

This quick but exciting post is just to say that Henry is thrilled to have new half siblings. Congrats to Miss Georgia Peach (and Kim and John) on the successful delivery of  TWELVE perfect babies. #holycrap #whatatrooper #ifonlyitwasntfifthsemester

Road trip!

Meet Sophia--- cute as a button.

As I prepare to get Henry packed into the car to go spend a little time drinking playing with Auntie Sarah and his new cousin Sophia, I have been reflecting on what a little road warrior Henry has become.

Obviously, our journey started on the road. (Truth time--- when I asked Chris if we could go meet "Bruiser," I might have neglected to tell him that he lived about an hour away near Birch Run. When we got in the car after a long night of "celebrating," he was less than entertained with the drive before us... until he saw that squishy little ball of puppy love.)

But after that point, Henry got to spend a lot of time in the car. You see, at first, Henry and I were crate-less. So leaving Mr. Man at home alone wasn't an option. He went everywhere with me (a true lesson on how to induce separation issues in your dog ;) ) He took to loving it!

Henry started off in the front seat. He was my co-pilot! But because it was December when Henry came home, it took two months before we had a day nice enough to do this:

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10103066846516814&l=6279780852845133248

And he continued to co-pilot as long as size permitted.

At nineteen weeks old and exactly eighty pounds, Henry still fit next to me in the passenger seat just fine. On warmer days, he'd pop on his Doggles, stick his head out of that passenger window, and let his ears flap in the wind like it was the best thing he had ever experienced. 

Doggles, for reference.

As he got bigger, he tried to convince himself that he still fit. He'd cram himself up next to mom, head touching the ceiling, crushing anything on the passenger seat, leaning over the shifter and emergency brake #safetybedamned!

Finally Henry resigned himself to the back seat, an although he wasn't the happiest about not being directly next to mom all of the time, he liked being able to stretch his legs a bit more #mommasboy

Picking up falafel for dinner.

It wasn't long before we weren't able to fit the whole crew in Fanny Focus (my 10 year old, air condition-less, albeit awesome ride). Chris was promoted to head driver and put in charge of carting the gang around. And our little road warriors loved it.

On the way to Grandpa Andy's

On the way home from Grandpa Andy's, an extra little man in tow

Starting in July, Henry decided that at nearly 10 months old, he was way too cool to stick his head out of the window. He was now a big enough boy to start using the sunroof (like all of the cool kids do...) On our way to work one day, he popped his dome out of the top of the car while I was driving. For safety's purpose, there is no video. (Truth: the video didn't turn out--- I was recording and driving, just not well. Don't tell my mom...) But I was able to capture this gem when I went into the bank for a deposit slip.

Public service caption: Although it was late July, this was an exceptionally cool day (low to mid 60s) and I went into the bank for less than 15 seconds to get a deposit slip and walk out. Do not, under any circumstances, leave your pets closed in your car on even MILDLY warm days--- it takes very little to turn your car into a lethal sweat box.

Tallulah and Henry watching Mom pull out of the driveway.

Henry continues to love car rides. Although he's lost his sign for "car," nothing got him more riled when he was a baby (and we're working on getting the sign back.) It's hard to leave that cute little mug when I know all he really wants to do is slap on his Doggles and pop his dome through the sunroof. 

The next step to more awesome car rides is going to be mom graduating from veterinary school so that Fanny Focus can retire (if she makes it that long) and Henry can have an appropriately sized ride!

Henry, can you hear me?

Henry was born deaf--- no matter what you did to wake this sleepin' puppy, he was out like a light. You could scream or yell. You could whistle. You could clang pans or open all of the doors and windows when trains came by... Bells, cell phones, high pitches, low pitches, dog whistles, clapping... still, the puppy slept quietly.

Then this happened...

Truth be told, I did cry. A lot. But let's back this story up a ways... Previously, I've mentioned that Henry spent some time with his Auntie Sarah just before spring break. On his trip home, he noticed Cameron, the macaw.

Meet Cameron--- she's dressed like a bumble bee.

Henry was pretty obsessed--- he stared and watched and barked. But the thing is, Sarah became convinced that Henry could hear Cameron squawk. Cameron spends a lot of her day squawking, so I thought it was just happenstance, considering he'd also go running into the room when he realized he hadn't checked on that crazy bird in awhile.

Sleepy puppy the morning after a long night

 of experiments

Fast forward to April 7. Chris and I were sitting on the couch, Henry was sleeping. As a train approached, blowing its whistle, Henry woke from his slumber and ran to the sliding door, barking like a madman! Shocked, not completely convinced, the experiments ensued...

Henry fell asleep, and we'd drop a bottle on the coffee table to make a loud noise; after he popped his head up, we'd let him fall asleep again. I'd whistle without any response. We'd laugh loudly and get a startled puppy. This continued for a couple of hours before I was relatively convinced.

I should clarify for everybody asking: It's like he has earplugs in. And this might be all he gets so I try not to get too excited. (Actually, I rather love that he's deaf a lot of the time.) He can hear the trains, bottles/dishes set on tables/clanked together (loudly), when I whistle, when Kira barks, when the macaw screams, etc... It's not enough hearing to deliver commands, but it's something. And it was pretty exciting to discover.

 

Snuggling with mama after barkin' at trains all night

Sleepy Henry--- remember that toy? It's from the day he came home! This is the first picture I took after gaining his attention with noise.

Fell asleep while playing. I tried yelling to wake him; it didn't work. Still doesn't most of the time.

Mr. Man ignoring me and staring at Kira while she howls

Henry loves presents! (But who doesn't?!)

On March 14, there was a tag on my apartment door--- "You have a package in the leasing office." Score! I love presents. My mom and my best friend (Mia) are two people who are awesome  at sending cards and little niceties. I was excited.

Office drone: "Which apartment? Well, I don't have one for Jessica... do you know a Henry?"

After offering up an awkward story about how Henry is the name of my car and my mom knows my rear-view mirror is broken so this must be a new mirror, I was certain we'd be busted soon. See, Henry was allowed in my apartment as long as he didn't exceed 100lbs and I paid an exorbitant non-refundable deposit + monthly pet rent. I was willing to do all of that if busted... but if they didn't know? Who was I hurting. But I digress...

I carried a package to the apartment and thought about what my mom might have sent. Previously she sent chocolate strawberries, caffeine, little treats and trinkets... Instead, I found this gem:

Grandma bought Henry Doggles! We had asked for them a couple months ago, but didn't actually expect them. He wanted the ones with flames, so he'd look like he was running extra fast! He also got a new fancy raincoat, a sweater and a new toy. Aren't grandmas the best?

This turned out to be a wonderful trend with Grandma--- for Christmas, we got new toys, a new sweater, a bag of food (which at $60 a pop, is the best present anybody can ever get a growing, 100+ pound puppy.)  For my birthday, we got a doggy swimming pool, some good bones and chew toys and more food!

Henry has never wanted for anything, partially because he's a spoiled boy and partially because I'm never happier than after a little pet store retail therapy--- some girls buy new jeans, I buy a new Wubba.

Henry's Wubba--- this toy is a must have in our house since first being introduced by Chris's sister, Megan. It's their fave!

Henry's Kong.

Beatrice the sheep.

The kicker is, Henry likes to destroy his toys--- the more I buy the more he destroys. (Evidence below.)

So, to limit my dog toy/bed/treat/clothes obsession, I've started Henry an amazon wishlist and limit myself to one Henry present every two weeks. Obsession? Sure. Am I okay with it? Absolutely! Want to feed the illness? Visit Henry's wish list!

http://www.amazon.com/registry/giftlist/1BHEMDYPMYVNO

Though, in all honesty, the present Henry really needs is a new car--- one that he can fit in. Here's to hopin' Momma hits the lottery because Fanny Focus is on her way out and soon we'll have to invest in a saddle--- let's see if we can avoid the "is that a dog or a pony" jokes then...

SPRING BREAK! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Prior to Spring Break 2013, the administration at the veterinary school decided to challenge the crap out of us by giving us back to back to back exams. Now, finals week with a sleepy, nine week old puppy is one thing: it's him sleeping happily and me having to resist the urge to way him up and play. Back to back exams with a five month old puppy?  That's a completely different monster: it's 60lbs of cute, demanding your attention... #screamingpuppy

Chris and I had big plans to survive this week and then take off to Boyne Mountain with my sister, my brother and cousins. But survival was questionable at this point. Until this happened:

At first, I was elated. Then I realized that I would be away from my buddy for the first time since December. Sarah pulled up, having driven an hour and a half, to come get my boy and loaded her car with toys, food, and a crate. I'd like to say I was tough, but I cried... like a baby. Henry seemed to be just fine though.

Henry and Spencer

This is the start of Henry's long history of thinking that all other dogs want to be his friend, regardless of growling, biting, bearing teeth... I blame it on the hearing and his loving, happy personality.

Henry and Stella at Grandma's

Once exams were over and spring break started up, Aunt Sarah took my little man to spend a weekend at Grandma's. My mom has a boxer named Stella who (at this point) loved Henry. They played constantly for the three days. I'm not sure my mom slept.

Making himself at home in Auntie Sarah's room

Henry's first trip away from mom was so much fun that he slept for almost two complete days. He made lots of "friends" and mom passed all of her exams without crying too often.