This week is my last author interviews for a while, but I’ve saved this one to tickle your funny bone. Since I write fiction, I know most of my readers read fiction, but today I’m introducing you to a non-fiction author.
And you’re going to love her–and her book.
Meet Erin Taylor Young
Erin is one of the sweetest and FUNNIEST ladies I’ve had the pleasure to know. She also captured my heart because she’s a dog lover–and OH, MAN–does she have a dog!
No one can meet Erin and not also meet Henry. Henry is…well…Henry is Henry. If you’ve ever looked at your canine companion and thought, I could write a book about all your antics…Well, Erin DID write a book about Henry’s escapades, and it’s selling like hotcakes! It’s in airports and grocery stores and Sam’s Clubs across the country. Here’s a little glimpse of Henry…
Surviving the New Year Like Henry
Erin’s book, Surviving Henry: Adventures in Loving a Canine Catastrophe, released in August 2014, but I asked Erin how she planned to survive 2015 with her bungling boxer. She was good enough to share a little about one of Henry’s episodes and a great lesson she learned to help us face our New Year…
How My Dog Tried to Kill Himself (Again)
By Erin Taylor Young
I’m doing yard work when my hubby sticks his head out the window and tells me his big ball of bread dough rising on the counter has disappeared.
This is alarming on two levels. One, Alan was making the dough into our very most favoritist dinner rolls ever, and I REALLY wanted some. (I trim the hedges, Alan bakes. This is the kind of marriage we have. Don’t judge me.)
The second issue, far more troubling, is that when bulk food items mysteriously disappear in our house, it’s because our dog Henry made off with them.
Somehow I still feel the need to check the bread board myself, like Alan can mistake whether a cantaloupe-sized ball of dough is gone or not.
It’s gone.
Which means that for who knows how long now, Henry’s had dough for two-dozen dinner rolls rising in his nice warm belly. Can a stomach rupture?
We hustle Henry into the van for an emergency vet trip. (This is a regular occurrence for us.)
Henry arrives at the clinic with his face puckered in pain. He lurches in like a woman about to birth quintuplets. The nice folks in scrubs immediately whisk him to the backroom for an injection to make him upchuck.
Half an hour later, the vet tech returns to Alan and I in the waiting room. Henry prances at her side. She hands us his leash. Her eyes are grapefruits. “I’ve never seen so much come out of a dog. He filled an entire pan.”
Henry grins at her.
She eyes him like he’s some sort of mutant.
I blink at the disconnect between the vision I had of a dead or internally-maimed dog and the grinning, four-legged dunderhead in front of me. “He’s okay? I mean, no after-effects or anything?”
The tech nods. “He had another injection to counteract any toxins he absorbed. He’s good to go.”
Henry cues on the word go and commences his “Oh boy, oh boy, a walk!” dance.
Right. He just barfed a giant ball of killer bread dough and now he’s ready for the next adventure.
The tech hands us his bill.
$168 to ralph our dinner rolls.
I have one word for this dog (besides frustrating, annoying, and ridiculous, because those go without saying).
The word is resilient.
Like the rest of mankind, I have times and seasons where I feel like I’ve done nothing but vomit one big dough ball after another. My half-witted hound has a better grasp on how to cope with that than I do:
Endure. Move on.
Repeat as necessary.
Henry is a creature living in the moment. Taking on challenges as they come. The trials. The traumas. The near death experiences (which, admittedly, he has a lot of practice with).
And the joyful seasons? Henry knows how to embrace them. How to dance. No thinking about when they’ll end, no fears of tomorrow.
I fork over my credit card to pay Henry’s bill. I want to be irked, but Henry, in all his resilient glory, has shown me how to change my coming year for the better.
Make that my coming day.
This just might be the best 168 bucks I ever spent.
More about Erin Taylor Young:
Erin Taylor Young has a remarkable gift for making her readers laugh out loud even as she’s delivering hard truths about living a life of faith. Her down-to-earth writing style invites readers into the books that God has given her and sends them away refreshed and assured that we’re not in this gig alone. Her first humorous nonfiction, Surviving Henry: Adventures in Loving a Canine Catastrophe, released in August and has repeatedly been accused of making people laugh until they cry. Erin lives in the Southwest with her husband, their two sons, and the infamous–and, against all odds, still alive–Henry. Learn more about Erin at www.erintayloryoung.com where she blogs about writing, God, and her aversion to spiders.
To Connect With Erin:
CLICK HERE to keep up with Erin’s quarterly news.
CLICK HERE to receive Erin’s monthly blog in your inbox.
To learn more about the book, visit Erin’s website at: www.survivinghenry.com or check out Henry’s antics on his very own FACEBOOK PAGE.
Tweet-A-Licious!
- Meet Erin Taylor Young and learn how to survive the New Year like her canine torpedo, Henry!
- Need to laugh in the New Year? Meet the author of SURVIVING HENRY and celebrate resilience.
Today’s Question:
- What questions or comments do you have for Henry’s human?
Comments 18
How much fun was that! Having had a boxer that was NOTHING like Henry I can still laugh bec of just loving the Boxer breed. Thanks again.
Mary, boxers are the best! I’m glad yours wasn’t as…um…spunky as Henry. : )
Author
Erin, Mary is my mama–I’ve only heard stories of our boxer (Dukie). He died when I was little, but he was evidently quite protective of little Mesu and grabbed my dad’s arm in his mouth when he tried to spank me. I’ve loved boxers ever since I heard that story. 😉
I love that, Mesu! Every misbehaving kid needs a Dukie. : )
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Funny! I see a long line of Henry books in your future, Erin.
Happy, happy new year to you and your inspiration!
Thanks, Jess! Happy New Year to you as well! Hope you’re busy writing away. : )
Your dog makes me so thankful for my own. Sure, she likes to go in and out a lot, but she’s never once ingested something that could explode in her stomach. It’s the little things…
Thanks for the giggle. I needed that today.
So I guess a trade would be out, huh? That’s okay. I’ll keep my Henry. : )
Henry always gives me a smile, and Erin’s ability to see the humor in everything is just wonderful-a treat for all of us!
Linda, Henry always gives me a smile too. It’s just, you know, MUCH later. : )
Author
Linda, I’m jealous. I’d love to meet Henry someday!
I have a tiny toy poodle compared to Henry and she is a handful. Her nemesis is toilet paper but thankfully hasn’t caused the trouble Henry has gotten into! Our furry friends are entertainment and you are correct how they live in the moment. Wish I could be more like my dog ‘cept for the obsession with toilet paper! Thanks for the laugh!
Henry prefers tissues to toilet paper, but I get totally get where you’re coming from. Someone help me with why dogs eat this stuff?? Maybe it tastes better than dog food.
Erin – I love reading new Henry antics. I’m thankful he ended up as your canine baby. Not sure anyone else would have been as patient! I’m looking forward to more Henry books. Please tell me there’s a sequel.
Terri, there’s certainly material available for some type of sequel, whether it’s full length or something short for fun, I’m not sure yet. : )
Ah, Henry, Nellie’s soulmate. May they never meet! I’m glad he didn’t blow up
Ha! Danni, I’ve seen your great posts about Nellie. She’ll provide lots of–let’s call it fun–for you over the next few years. And yeah, I think we better make sure she and Henry never get together lest it usher in some sort of doggie apocalypse.