The end of a very, very, very good era

I am sorry to announce that a week before Christmas, we had to put Mr. Henry to sleep. Boy, was it hard to let him go. I mean, he's Henry, after all. The Big Guy. Big Hen. Hendo. Hendomania. Hendopolous. Henri Henri. He was the best guy anyone could ever ask for - with a face that could charm the pants off of any vet in a 160 mile radius. And he's done it, too.

Those sweet little ears. Those big brown eyes. His wrinkles, his little mouth, and his squished little pug nose. Even the way he strutted around in his big boy red collar (which eventually became the big boy red harness you see him modeling here) was endearing. I'm telling you, this guy had fans. He got himself into scenarios and situations that could hardly be forgotten. Listed below are just a few of the predicaments he found himself in. I'll preface each by saying, "The incident(s) with..." :

The cigar, the earthworms, the claw, the plate of fudge, the Easter candy, the toilet paper, the Michael Kors sandals, the giraffe bed, the ottoman, bridges, open stairs, paper-towel poopies, Uncle Kevin, his water bowl, the indiscretion in our foyer, the indiscretion under our glass coffee table, the indiscretions on every piece of furniture we own, his toe nails, the tongue tick, the rain. (For a complete listing, see the wikipedia listing for "Trouble with a captial "T".)

He lobbied hard for free refills, loved when we sang Amazing Grace, and asked Santa for a red wagon year after year. (He preferred to ride.) He convinced our dog trainer that he shouldn't be forced to lie down on command, so much so that the trainer told us, "He physically can't do it. You shouldn't force him...pugs are just like that sometimes."

He loved his mom, and he especially loved his dad. He thought his brother and sister were pretty nice, too.
He earned himself a dedication in one of the best selling lupus books on the market, for goodness sakes. Not many pugs can make that claim. That tells you just how special this guy really was.

Henry Henri Gorman is and always will be unforgettable. I just wonder when I'll be able to type his name without tearing up. Maybe someday soon. Maybe never. However it turns out, Henry would want it that way. And, as many of you know, Mr. Henry always got his way.


Marilyn said…
Oh Sara, I'm so sorry for your loss! I'm sure you are feeling a large hole in your family right now but remember, he is free to run and play now. No more aches and pains! Wouldn't we love that too? I send my sympathies to you all.
Sara Gorman said…
Oh, I know. That is the greatest consolation, knowing that he's not insulin-dependent anymore, doesn't need his three eye medications, has 20/20 vision :), and doesn't have an ache or a pain. Thanks for your kind words. It means so much to have people who understand just how difficult it can be to lose a furry little loved one!
Kathryn G. said…
Henry Gorman really was larger than life and his Aunt Katie misses him terribly.

I was wondering if I could add a couple of incidents involving:
compulsive door stopper boinging (is there a 12 step program for that?)
required cornflakes on dog food
grate phobia
room darkening shades to prevent midnight barking at car lights
an ottoman for his ottoman
refusing to go left (or was it right?) out of driveway

(p.s. Uncle Kevin misses him too, but he just doesn't know it yet... and he is secretly pleased to be mentioned in his memorial.)
maria said…
My heart goes out to all of you~
Sara Gorman said…
Oh, how Henry loved his Aunt Katie!
The phrase "2nd mother" comes to mind...and I know he's harrassing your pups in heaven right now.

You've done a fine job of rounding out the incident list. I'm sure there are many more. I think I may have a picture of Henry staring down a door stopper. If so, I'll post it. He expected so much from those little stoppers...
Sara Gorman said…
And Maria - thanks for you well wishes. We appreciate them!

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