February 14, 2017 My Old Boy Henri Hudson

Recently I began feeling that Henri Hudson, our twelve years old Basset Hound, hasn't been out of the house a great deal. His hips hurt,  and mine too, so he doesn't get out of the house as much as he probably should. This Winter I decided to take him with me on errands when I use my work truck.

Trips to the bank, to the hardware store, and then back home is all we do. He never gets out of the truck but he loves it all anyway. He can no longer make the jump to the seat, so I have to lift him, and he doesn't like it one bit when I do. Usually he forgives me and settles in for the ride.

Yesterday I had to run out the the Farm to retrieve my chainsaw. We have a huge Monkey Puzzle tree which didn't make it through the drought last year and so is now an enormous problem to solve with a chainsaw. Henri ran past me as I headed out the door and stood at the gate. He does this hopefully. Sometimes it works. This time it did.

We got to the Farm and he bolted past me as I slid out of the truck seat. I went back a retrieved the saw, he sauntered around for the five minutes this took.

As I returned to the truck Henri ask if he could look around outside of the fence and so I decided to take him onto the Banks-Vernonia Trail which runs along the front of the Farm, across the street. The picture above is how the thing looks. I wish he didn't moon the camera every time.

It was a sunny day, warm in the sun, nobody else out there. Nice.

But having to leave, I called Henri to the truck and told him to line up for a lifting.

AND HE BIT MY FINGER! Left a nice little bruise too.

That's gratitude for you.