The Story of Lady and Henry

I saw an old Golden Retriever this afternoon while walking my dog and suddenly felt very cheated. My Golden, Lady, died a year ago from a cancerous tumor in her nasal passage. She had just turned 7. She had been my constant companion since my husband and I bought her in April of 2000. She came to work with me almost every day since she was 8 weeks old. She could walk long distances with me and loved to accompany me on cross country ski-trips. I am pretty sure that my husband bought her for me because he knew he was dying and thought I would need a buddy (that is another long and involved story for another day.) This is Lady and me in my inner city garden- my other love.

This is Lady on a walking trail near my new home which is very far from the city. We moved here with my boyfriend in 2006. As you can see, she was every inch a Lady. She was 75 pounds of noble creature, even temperament and loyalty- prematurely gray like most Goldens. She had already started slowing down a little and was usually content to snooze under a bush while I puttered in the garden. I had reconciled myself to the two of us getting a little pudgy as she got older and was less interested in long walks.


This..... is a Henry. Four months after Lady died I couldn't stand the loneliness of my walks. Really- what's the point of walking without someone to yak with? I had decided that a rescue mixed breed was the politically correct thing to do and might help avoid some of a purebred's genetic problems. I needed a non-threatening, child friendly, people dog. This is the package those ingredients came in. He was described as a Wheaten Terrier mix and needed to be re-homed because of his separation anxieties. They neglected to mention that his other half was beagle- meaning that despite his separation anxieties any chance he got he would be down the road chasing some scent. He was truly a hell-dog till we worked out some ground rules.

Here is Henry at work with one of his many toys. He is 32 pounds of cuddly love that always needs to be on leash. Always. I have learned that he even needs to be buckled up in my car so he can 't dive out the window in search of food, females or fun. He doesn't chew up my shoes anymore or steal food off the counters (much). In exchange I take him on 5 mile walks almost daily, introduce him to as many tolerant dogs as I can find and kiss him hourly.
Isn't he a doll? My Mr. Fluffy Muffins!