Meet 'King' Henry

When we lost our beloved Bailey in February, I wrote about him, and the support I received from readers meant more than I can say. Today, I hope you'll allow me another detour, to introduce the newest member of our family: Henry. Better known as Hurricane Henry, Happy Henry or, as I call him, King Henry. The decision to get another dog was a difficult one, and it took us nearly two months. Life just wasn't the same without our best friend — we were so sad. But how do you choose just one dog from the hundreds in need of homes right here in our area? With all those hopeful eyes and wagging tails, the process can feel overwhelming. Because our schedules are so busy, we decided that adopting through a rescue organization might be the best route. Rescues often have valuable insights into the dogs in their care and can help match them with the right families. Many of their dogs are pulled from shelters — often those struggling in that environment — and placed into foster homes until they find a permanent one. We didn't have any particular breed in mind — just one that might be a good fit for our family. Dogs are a 10-15 year commitment. We brought Henry home on March 31, and the very next evening we had a Black River Audubon meeting — the first time he would be left alone. We had never used a crate before, but the rescue organization said he was crate-trained, so we thought it might keep him safe until he adjusted to his new surroundings. Henry thought otherwise. We set up a camera to keep an eye on him while we were gone. Just a few minutes into the meeting, we checked and saw that he was not happy —barking, drooling and eventually breaking out of the crate altogether. We left the meeting as soon as possible and raced home. His backstory helps explain it. Supposedly born on Dec. 26, 2022 — a Christmas puppy — Henry spent two years bouncing between shelters, each time getting closer to the end of his chances. A rescue group finally pulled him from the brink in early January. What we didn't know at the time was that Henry had been diagnosed with severe FAS (fear, anxiety and stress) and was already on medication. The veterinarian noted that Henry exhibited "a concerning level of anxiety in shelter that we have not been able to mitigate with medications and enrichment. He continues to exhibit excessive spinning, jumping, panting, vocalizing and leash-biting behaviors. Extremely high arousal level when approached in run and once out of run. Difficult to refocus." If we had known all this, honestly, we might not have chosen Henry. We worried he might need more care than we could manage with our busy schedules. We had been spoiled by the ease with which we shared our lives with Bailey — and emotionally drained by his health issues at the end. But fate works in funny ways. At our first meeting, Henry liked me — which we later learned was unusual, given that he doesn't seem to like men. And once Gina pictured him going back to yet another foster home or shelter, she couldn't stop crying. That sealed it. King Henry wasn't going anywhere. Life with Henry is part comedy, part chaos. Early on, we caught him on camera strolling across the kitchen countertops like a mountain goat. He is strong and rambunctious — often leaping from couch to couch. Outside, he chases anything that moves and dives into bushes just to scatter the birds. He enjoys his walks and, unlike Bailey, absolutely loves car rides. We were thankful that the rescue organization provided some training for Henry. It was clear he'd had some training in the past, but as the veterinarian noted, he struggles to focus. The commands he knows — like place, sit and down — he performs with energy and enthusiasm. Other times, like trying to shake or "high five," I might as well be speaking French; no matter how much time and effort I put in, he simply stares at me blankly. Playing ball is Henry's life. He does not go anywhere without one clutched in his mouth or stashed nearby, just in case. Outside, fetch is his kingdom. He doesn't always bring the ball back — at least not directly — so we have scattered several around the yard to make sure we always have one ready to toss. We've played so much fetch that my old pitching arm is coming back into shape. Henry, on the other hand, shows no signs of wearing out. I'd forgotten how much energy a young dog can have. I'm not even sure he knows how to stop if he wanted to. And, he doesn't want to! When he finally does come inside, he doesn't just lie down — he collapses in dramatic fashion, splooting across the floor. Legs splayed, chest heaving, ball still close at hand, he rests only long enough to recharge before trotting back with that look that says, "Again?" I like to say Henry has movie star good looks — striking gray eyes that perfectly match the gray in his coat, accented by a heart-shaped mark on his nose. Who could resist a dog with a heart-shaped nose? I like to give our dogs a voice, and Henry's came to me immediately: Scooby-Doo. Imagine "Ruh-roh!" echoing around the house, and you'll understand. He is both very smart and kind of dopey. His personality fills our home like a cartoon character come to life. Of course, every dog has its own personality. Bailey loved everyone and understood my silly jokes and antics. Henry? He just stares at me, ball in mouth, waiting for me to get back to the important business of fetch. He can be affectionate and likes to cuddle in the chair with me at the end of the day when he finally settles down. We just don't yet have the emotional connection I've shared with our other dogs. But that's okay — every dog writes their own story. Henry has had a rough couple of years, and little by little, he's learning what it means to finally be home. Field Trip Black River Audubon's will host a field trip Saturday at 9 a.m. at Amherst Beaver Creek Reservation, 913 North Lake Street Amherst. Meet outside the visitor center.