City of Fort Worth
Fort Worth has never lacked for local legends, but every now and then one shows up on four feet instead of two — and in Henry’s case, with a tail that seemed to sweep the whole city into his orbit. In the wake of his death last fall, City leaders are now considering formally naming the North Animal Campus — long an unnamed facility — as Henry’s Animal Campus, a move that would permanently link the City’s animal welfare mission to the black Lab who spent more than a decade as Fort Worth Animal Care & Control’s official canine ambassador. Few public servants, human or otherwise, have left such an imprint.
Henry’s story began in 2011, when he arrived at the Chuck & Brenda Silcox Animal Shelter in rough shape. He was thin, sick, and out of second chances — until Brandon Bennett, then the City’s Code Compliance Director, spotted him and sensed something worth saving. What followed was a slow, steady restoration — the kind of recovery only patience, medical know-how, and a stubborn belief in possibility can achieve. By the time Henry grew strong enough to trot comfortably across a room, he had also formed a bond with Bennett that would last the rest of the dog’s long life. They even retired side by side in 2025.
Once healthy, Henry threw himself into public service with the sort of earnest devotion Texans tend to appreciate. He padded through special events, delighted schoolchildren, joined former mayor Betsy Price on community visits, traveled with city leadership to local and national conferences, and visited veterans in nursing homes. He spent hundreds of hours with thousands of children in schools, summer programs, and neighborhood gatherings, offering a steady presence that softened hard conversations about overcrowded shelters and limited resources. He wasn’t merely a mascot; he was a working dog with a mission, guiding Fort Worth toward a deeper understanding of the needs of its homeless pets.
At a time when public shelters across the country were struggling with high euthanasia rates, Henry became a living, breathing counterargument. His calm demeanor and consistency helped humanize shelter operations and build trust between the community and the City’s animal welfare system. Through outreach and fundraising tied closely to his public role, Henry helped raise nearly $5 million to advance critical animal welfare infrastructure. That included the construction of the City’s first-of-its-kind Medical Treatment Ward for sick and injured animals, which opened in 2014 and fundamentally changed what the shelter could save, and who.
As his reputation grew, so did the scale of his impact. Additional advocacy efforts later contributed to broader campaigns that helped secure funding for a modern animal shelter. Along the way, Fort Worth’s live-release rate climbed steadily, earning the city recognition as one of the nation’s most pet-friendly communities. For a dog who once arrived with little more than ribs and resolve, it was a remarkable civic résumé.
Henry lived to 16 — a full, generous life — and passed away on Nov. 26, surrounded by Bennett and Barry Alexander, the superintendent who served as his handler and constant companion. For Alexander, the loss was personal as well as civic. He described Henry not as a symbol but as a colleague; a presence felt across departments and the state.
The proposal to rename the North Animal Campus follows established City Council procedures for naming public facilities and reflects Henry’s sustained, citywide impact and public service. If approved, Henry’s Animal Campus would stand as a permanent reminder of what one rescued dog helped a city become — a place where second chances are not just offered, but institutionalized.
“He meant so much to so many people across the department and across the city and state,” Alexander said. “He was a great team member, he was loved by so many, and he will truly be missed.”
