My computer crashed and burned recently and I am still unearthing useable bits and pieces of data. Incredibly, a small treasure trove of baby Dobby photos popped up!

If they are unfamiliar to me, they will be brand new to you. I’m going to mix them in with some other photos from that era. Together we can look at the Prince of Cute and wonder when he became the rascally rodent we all knew and loved. I’m optimistically calling this Part One.

The breeders showed me how to feed him milk so that he wouldn’t aspirate. This is the position baby capybaras assume when they are fed by their mother. Shortly after his arrival he developed pneumonia and I almost lost him. Thanks to MaryLee Stropes and Dr. Franklin Vincenzi, he conquered it. That was when I figured out about putting his meds in the milk. I kept him on milk for years for that very reason. The “milk” itself morphed over time into a mashup of vitamins, mineral supplements, probiotics, and pain meds. In the end there was hardly any milk involved except as a historically based flavor additive.

With the milk mess under control, he drank milk in the kitchen. Eventually he learned how to make an even bigger milk mess out of a bowl. Capybaras are curious and he loved to make reconnaissance missions around the house, with or without supervision. Baby gates were installed in doorways once he learned that he could easily hop out of the bathtub. He’s exploring the bedroom at the beginning and end of this video.

When Dobby left the bathtub he decided to sleep near me. So cute! Right by my side of the bed on the floor. He never wanted to sleep on the bed with me. Then he ate the dust ruffle and I installed a baby gate across my closet and dressing area. He got so comfortable that he would urinate there as he awoke each morning. Strategically placed shower curtain tarps and big absorbent bedding appeared. Serious discussions began about moving him outdoors.

Outdoors, tiny Dobby seemed to shrink into a carefree but frightfully vulnerable morsel. Geese grow much faster than capybaras, so Norman and Cubicle joined the staff as sentries. This may be the suburbs, but we have coyotes, bobcats, hawks and even a pair of nesting bald eagles less than a mile away.

In spite of his diminutive size, Dobby had to move out. It was long after he was this size that we finally opened that door. There were many months of soiled bedding and barricades, but even at this tender age, his message was clear: “I am not an indoor pet!”

Early days with Dobby were busy and I didn’t always take the time to shoot video clips on my big clunky video camcorder, or record every adventure. I was still working out of the home but retired the following year. Looking back, I know every hour spent with Dobby gave him the confidence to become the crazy fool we knew and loved.

There are many photos of little Dobby sprinkled throughout the older posts on this website. They aren’t easy to find (I just looked for them myself!) so I’ll continue posting old photos like these when they materialize. If you have any special requests, please contact me on the Ask Dobby tab up there.