Wait, come back here, you—
There he is! Our fuzzy doodlebug, Henry! Yes, we finally named him. Although Paul is not on board with ‘Henry,’ the kids voted and I decided I was sick of not being able to call him, and as my Mom pointed out, if we didn’t name him soon, he was going to by “Puppy,” so Henry it is.
I used to have a teddy bear named Henry. I guess I associate the name to cute furry things I can cuddle.
He’s sleeping on my foot as I type this. Housetraining seems to be nearly done. He’s got Sit and Down and don’t-jump-(much)-on-the-human. He doesn’t bark at the goats. Progress!
I have copies of
in a stack on the kitchen table where I read them while eating. (Yes, they are covered in food dribbles and coffee stains, it’s the curse of being a tree-book in my house.) My friend Priscilla once told me I could probably build a nuclear bomb from books I checked out of the library. I think this puppy thing might be harder.
Luc is the most ambivalent about the whole puppy situation. This is mostly because he gets very excited, which gets Henry very excited, which leads to jumping and sometimes nipping (we’re working on it), which terrifies Luc. I keep telling Luc to stay calm and not run away, and he says okay, but then he screams and runs and gets chased the very next moment. Sigh. We’ll get there.
Henry says, “Hihihihi! You have one of those liver treats that are so tasty? No? How about a pine cone?”