Mark Hendricks: 1953-2017
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Friends for Life

Some might think Mark and Diana rescued Barkley, but there is little doubt that Barkley rescued Mark as well.

PAWS Shelter and Humane Society

How I Spent My Christmas Day

12/26/2014

1 Comment

 
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To: Family and Friends
From: Barkley, The Dog

My Mom and Dad got me these great toys for something they call Christmas Day. If I bite them, they squeak. They are little guys with white beards and they are dressed in red and they are very cool and I like them. On the morning of Christmas Day, my Mom and Dad gave them to me and I got on the living room floor and played with them and it was fun and all was good.

Then they left to go to Aunt Jenni's house and they said I could stay home and play with my new toys and, since it was something they called "unseasonably warm," they left the back door open so I could go outside to sleep in the sun if I wanted. Or poop. Or be inside with my new toys. But not poop inside. I like it here. It is better than the shelter.

But after a while I got bored so I decided to look around to see if there was anything I could do to help out around the house. I love my Mom and Dad and I want to do my part to help around here. So I looked around and got some ideas. There's that pecan-chocolate chip pie that Aunt Kim and Uncle Winton brought them. Mom has been talking about "getting in shape" and Dad always says he needs to reduce his sugar intake, so maybe if I took it outside. Wow, it's heavy. It is, after all, almost a whole pie. And it's way back on the counter top. But, THERE, I got it. My, it tastes GOOD. Lemme just toss this dessert fork over there on the back deck. OK, before I drag this out to the back yard, maybe I'll just have one more bite. Oh, the hell with it. I'll eat the whole thing. But not the tin foil pie pan. I'll just rip that apart.

Wow, all that pie has made me feel kind of funny. A little spacy. Kind of loopy. I like it. Wonder what else is on those kitchen counter tops. Whoa, a bag of chocolate covered almonds. THOSE look good! I think I will eat them all. And look at that giant bag of popcorn. Think I'll take that out  to the back deck and see what IT does for my metabolism. Mmmmmm. Chili flavored. THAT should settle my stomach nicely. OK, wonder what else is in there. Wow, several packs of AAA batteries for all the Christmas toys. They don't taste very good but maybe I can just open them and toss them around a bit. That might help my Mom and Dad. There, that's better. Small batteries all over the kitchen. Hmm. Starting to come down. Need more sugar.

LOOK!!!!!! A whole plate of Christmas cookies. Yummy!! THAT should get this sugar buzz going strong again. Yep. That's better. Still hungry. That bag of floral arrangement wires sure looks tasty. Ugh. WRONG. I'll just leave them here on the floor. But that stack of junk mail would be fun to toss around. Yippeee! There! Now the kitchen has that "Times Square on New Year's Morning" look. They will LOVE it! Think I will toss some around in the living room for good measure. Wow, that looks great.

I feel like I'm KING OF THE WORLD. Sugar is GREAT!!! That lampshade would look wonderful on my head. Sure wish I had thumbs to unscrew it. Think I will go outside and howl at the moon. Or just dance. Where do they keep the tequila? THERE it is. Damn. Forgot. No thumbs. Must find more sugar.

Ahh. Chocolate bars.

This is great. What's that sound? The garage door? THEY ARE HOME!!!!! Yayyyyy!!!! Ok, act nonchalant. I am not so think as they drunk I am! Act calm. Oh the hell with it!! It's my DAD and I LOVE him. Will lunge into his arms. What's that red stuff flowing from his arm beneath where my paw hit him? Why is he saying, "Calm down, Barkley?"

Mom has gone outside. She is saying, "Oh, my GOD!!" I wonder why.

I think I will just run around and run around and run around and run around and run around and run around. They will like that.

"Calm down, Barkley."

"Oh My God."

Much later, they went to bed. I still felt GREAT. I went to jump into bed with them even though I know I'm not supposed to do that unless they invite me. For some reason, tonight I cannnot jump as high as usual and, instead, I crash into the side of the bed and make a big loud BUMP that awakens my Dad.

"What the heck was THAT?" he asks my Mom.

"Barkley trying to jump onto the bed. He didn't make it," says my Mom.

"Pathetic," says my dad.

Now it is the next day. I don't feel nearly as good as I did last night. My Dad says I'm "hungover like a mutt." Not sure what that means. He says they will be more careful with countertop food in the future. Mom checked something called "the internet" and it says I will be ok. In time. Not sure what time is.

I think they still love me, but I feel kind of bad today.

God bless us all. Every one.

Woof.




Note: In spite of Barkley's poor choices, he has recovered completely from his lapse in judgment and promises to try to never do such a thing again. And Mom and Dad are going to be more diligent in putting food away before leaving!
1 Comment

Just A Dog...

9/26/2014

5 Comments

 
PictureOn the road.
When Diana and I adopted Barkley last winter, I had no intention of becoming one of those “dog people.” In my new retirement, though, I needed some companionship. Maybe a critter who could drag me out of the house from time to time for a little exercise. Truth be told, I agreed to adopt Barkley more out of Diana’s insistence than any desire of my own. He was just a dog.
 
He’s grown on us, though. Me especially -- Diana was sold from the get-go. He’s smart, one might even say intuitive. He’s funny, and he makes us happy. But I am NOT one of those “dog people” who believe their dogs are the same as their children. He’s a great guy, a wonderful companion. But he’s just a dog.
 
But, dammit, this happened. It’s important to put the proper emphasis on the last two words of the previous sentence. It should not be “this happened.” It should be “this happened.” It did. I don’t know how or why because, after all, he’s just a dog.
 
And I’m just an old retired guy who sees his good friend a little differently now.
 
It was an advantage of retirement that, when Diana had to travel to Mobile, Ala., on business, Barkley and I were available to accompany her. He has become a good traveling companion. I like to think I am the same, plus I also serve as chief chauffeur on the long haul across the South on Interstate 10.
 
Diana was occupied with business one afternoon, so Barkley and I decided to load into the Explorer and do just that. We would scout Mobile for good restaurants, see some sights and be prepared with a nice dinner plan for Diana when she was finished working for the day.
 
There are good seafood restaurants to scout along Battleship Parkway, and checking them out for dinner possibilities was our main mission. The parkway is so named because it is the resting place of the Battleship Alabama. She is moored in Mobile Bay, adjacent to a large parade ground surrounded by many exhibits of armaments from various of our country’s wars, including planes, helicopters, tanks and artillery and anti-aircraft pieces. I decided to pull in, pay the $2 entry fee and take Barkley and myself for a little walk.
 
The many exhibits are impressive and the grounds are meticulously maintained and beautiful. The chief attraction, though, is the Alabama herself. She is majestic in a rather frightening way. A magnificent piece of machinery, yet I can’t help but imagine the terror of being on the receiving end of the fury of her big guns. Oh, the stories she could tell. And it is the purpose of this park to remind us of those stories of our past.
 
After walking around a bit, we got back in the car to continue our outing. On the way out of the parking lot, I noticed a sign for the Korean and Vietnam War memorials. I was about to drive right past them when I realized that I could not.
 
“Good God, Mark,” I thought. “Have you become that jaded?”
 
I grew up in a Marine Corps family and, as a child, was often surrounded by Korean War veterans. I was part of the Vietnam War generation and, while I did not serve in that war, I have many friends who did. I know men, such as my late father, who served honorably and heroically in both of those wars. I pulled over and parked.
 
“Come on, Barkley. Let’s go have a look,” I said.
 
These are nice memorials. While they cannot compare with the memorials to these wars in Washington, D.C., they are inspirational in their own right and seemingly lovingly maintained by the wonderful people of Alabama. We visit the Korean War memorial and walk over to the Vietnam area.
 
Barkley is heeling perfectly at my side. At this point he is still just a dog. And maybe, even after what is about to happen, he still is. Perhaps it is my perception of what that means that is about to change.
 
At the Vietnam War memorial, there is a monument to the “Dog Soldiers” of the Vietnam War. To the brave dogs and their handlers who served so heroically in that conflict. Atop the monument are statuettes depicting a squad of American soldiers being led through the bush by a dog and his handler.
 
In front of the monument on the ground – just in front of us – is a casting of a soldier’s boot prints and four dog paw prints. Maybe I’m not so jaded. This is a very touching tribute. But it’s time to go.
 
“Come on Barkley. Back to the car,” I say.
 
That is usually enough of a command for Barkley. But he’s half shepherd and half husky. He’s a strong boy and when he is not quite ready to leave, he’s pretty good at staying put. He shrugs off my gentle tug to his leash.
 
He glances at me and then back to the boot and paw prints in the ground just in front of him. As I watch him, he steps forward and places his front paws into the rear paw prints of the casting, paw prints that symbolize the brave dogs of war. Then, to my complete amazement, he bows his head. He stands absolutely stock still in that position for a good five seconds.
 
He then takes two steps straight back, turns around and looks at me as if to say, “OK, we’re good. Let’s hit it.”
 
There comes an enormous catch in my throat. A tear escapes my right eye and courses down my cheek. As we walk to the car, a movie of my generation is playing in my mind.
 
Like it or loathe it, the Vietnam War was the defining event of my generation. It killed some of us, injured some of us, divided some of us, unified some of us, toppled a president, composed our music, taught us lessons we needed to learn and, undeniably, shaped who we are today.
 
And I was about to drive right past that beautiful little war memorial. I guess we become jaded when we are old enough to allow ourselves to remember our past through the History Channel rather than through our own mind’s eye.
 
Maybe sometimes we need a good friend to tell us, “Whoa. Just wait here for a moment. This is important.”
 
Even if that good friend is just a dog.
 

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5 Comments

    Barkley

    Part German Shepherd. Part Siberian Husky. Mostly perfect.
    Many thanks to PAWS Animal Shelter in Kyle, Texas, for not giving up on dogs like Barkley and believing in the Perfect Match.
    ______________________
    Cast of Characters:
    Barkley: The Wonder Dog
    Mark: The Retired Guy Who Didn't Think He Wanted A Dog
    Diana: The Wife Who Talked About It Until Mark Thought It Was His Idea.
    Miss Rachel: The Wonderful Teacher from Dog School Austin
    Miss Monica: The Queen of PAWS
    And A Supporting Cast of Dozens.

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Thank you so much.

We thank you from the bottoms of our hearts for your kindness during this time.  Feel free to post a  message on the comments page, or  contact us on our facebook pages, or send email to dianahendricks@me.com
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