Friday, May 13, 2022

In The Hands of Destiny: A collection of short stories

By Wylie Hudson

My doggy sister, Zoe, and I want to get out a bark that our mom has just published her fourth book: IN THE HANDS Of DESTINY. To our misgiving, this one is not an adventure story about us dogs and our kitty friends but a collection of short stories and all about humans. In other words, nothing makes sense. People just lack our refined skills of how to deal with each other and thus create chaos and confusion.

Zoe and I were debating if we should even write about the book, but then again, two of the short stories have dogs in them. Our kitty brothers Thomas and Tiger snubbed their noses at promoting the book for that reason since no representative of cats appears in it. However, they agreed with us that we need to support Mom, especially since cats have a paw in her first and third books. 

So, go tell your parents to order the book: IN THE HANDS OF DESTINY, available as paperback or e-book at, and also have a look at our mom’s other books. 

Thursday, February 10, 2022

Visitors from the sea

 By Wylie Hudson

Look who came to pay us a visit.

A bottlenose dolphin.

And then there were two.

They said hello, splashed around and played right in front of our dock.


It surely was fun watching them.

Saturday, August 14, 2021

Best friends once again

 By Wylie Hudson

Thomas and Tiger, my kitty brothers, are best friends again. It was not so the evening before yesterday, when a conniving female cat almost destroyed their friendship. 

I even don’t know if the neighbor cat is a girl, but being a male myself, I assume it must be and Thomas and Tiger were wooing her at the same time. They were both sitting on the windowsill behind closed curtains when all of a sudden mayhem broke out. 

Earsplitting screams interrupted our peaceful evening, and a huge ball of fur began rolling around the living room floor, sending blobs of red and gray hair into the air. You couldn’t tell who was Thomas and who was Tiger. It was just one big monster out of control.  

Dodging sharp claws and enduring lots of hissing, Mom finally calmed down a wild Tiger, the most gentle and easygoing kitty, and shooed Thomas away. Then Mom took a peek out of the window. And there she was sitting on the ground, the neighbor cat, looking up and grinning before she turned around and walked off. 

Thomas and Tiger avoided each other for the next 12 hours and then slowly made up. Except from very few minor disagreements, it was their first fight in the seven years since they’ve become brothers and best friends. 

Thursday, October 29, 2020

The Earthquake Survivors: A Hobo Hudson Adventure

 We are proud to announce that our mom published Hobo’s third book: THE EARTHQUAKE SURVIVORS. It’s a suspense and action filled story that will keep your parents glued to it, and you might have to remind them to feed you.

The book is available at To order it, click here

Sunday, October 18, 2020

Book review: Tails From Rainbow Bridge III

 By Zoe Hudson


I have read Foley Monster’s book Tails From Rainbow Bridge III together with my dad, and we both loved it. I’ve learned a lot about the former lives of my fellow dogs and some kitties who had to follow the call to Rainbow Bridge and are now living a more or less carefree life on its immortal side. While they don’t have to suffer any longer from diseases, poor health or other mortal misfortunes, they have to cope with being separated from their loved ones. At the same time, they do their best to help out those left behind and often play a big, if not the only, role in finding a new furry son or daughter to join the family. I won’t tell you how they do it, you’ll have to read Foley’s book. But I’ll tell you that my Angel brother Hobo had his paws in my finding my now forever home, and it’s all in Foley’s book Tails From Rainbow Bridge III.

The book is available at To buy it, click here.



Sunday, June 23, 2019

A book review of “Tails From Rainbow Bridge 2: Tributes and Observations”

By Wylie Hudson

Foley Monster, the author of the book Tails From Rainbow Bridge 2: Tributes and Observations, is a judge at Rainbow Bridge, bringing justice and freedom to pets’ immortal lives. Her stories about the afterlife show how every pet either continues a flourishing life or gets a better deal if its mortal life had been a letdown. With help and support from each other, the pets work hard to lessen the pain of pets and humans separated by Rainbow Bridge and to lift their spirits.

I enjoyed reading about the manners, quirks and interests of my friends at Rainbow Bridge, some habits they took over from their mortal lives, others they developed later, and got a kick out of the antics they pulled. Their love and dedication to each other and to their families and friends on the mortal side hold a special place in my heart since we pets are champions for family ties and friendships that last forever and ever. Pets and pet lovers will sense this special bond throughout the book.

Foley Monster took a lot of effort and care to write such a wonderful collection of stories as she kept up with all of her friends’ lives. The book will delight readers and will bring back beautiful memories to those who know pets across Rainbow Bridge.

The book is available at

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

And I thought I was having a nightmare

By Sabrina Hudson

Our mom almost got killed by a kitchen cabinet, and I slept through the whole ordeal, right next to it in the dining room. I was taking my beauty siesta and heard a thunderous crash. Peeking through one eye, I saw a black monster run like the devil and thought I was having a nightmare.

I later learned it had been my kitty brother Tiger. He had witnessed from his chair opposite mine at the dining room table Mom desperately holding on to the kitchen cabinet. It had come crashing down on her when she opened its door, smashing to smithereens pottery and glasses. Tiger had hightailed it at the first sound of the boom and clatter and watched everything from a safe distance.

Mom’s desperate shouts for Dad to come and rescue her tore into my sleep, but as I said, I thought it was a nightmare in which the devil was after Mom when in fact, it was the kitchen cabinet that was after her.

Dad arrived just in time before Mom’s arms gave out. He took over holding the cabinet sitting with its edge on the kitchen counter. After Mom and Dad pushed it all the way on top of the counter, they stared in disbelief at the broken glasses and whatever, scattered all over the floor. Then, they carefully removed the broken pieces still inside the cabinet.

Listening to what had happened, I was thankful that mom came out of that disaster unscathed. She was shook up but only had a scratch on her wrist. Surprisingly, a few of the drinking glasses were still in one piece, even without cracks or chips.

We are all proud of our mom who had put her life at risk to save the kitchen cabinet and the floor.

 The kitchen cabinet sits on the countertop 
after crashing down from the wall.

Friday, July 6, 2018

A guilty conscience

By Wylie Hudson

Dear friends. My blog is a bit late this week because it was very difficult to write. I’m sure that you all think that because I am Hobo’s brother, my soul is lily pure as Hobo’s was, but this isn’t the case. I have a horrible secret vice, and it’s time to bare my soul. I am a Squirrel Chaser.

Hobo was always able to help me contain this evil urge, but, now that he’s gone, I find it breaking out more and more often. I was sitting quietly beside Mom on the sun deck a couple of evenings ago when one of the critters ran by me and tickled my nose with his tail and I was off like a shot.

When he saw this, he made a desperate leap for the top of the fence but his leap was a bit short, and he fell right into my waiting jaws. Just as I was about to snap my jaws shut, I heard a high pitched scream. WYLIEEEE, don’t you dare! I never knew you were a SQUIRREL CHASER!

This was my low point when I realized that I was becoming out of control and joined Squirrel Chasers Anonymous. This is helping somewhat, but it will take time. It does help to stand among my fellow addicts and say, “My name is Wylie and I am a Squirrel Chaser.” After a glance at my stop watch, I continue, “It’s been 18 minutes since I’ve chased a squirrel.” After a round of supportive barks from my fellow addicts, I sit back down and do feel better for a slightly longer time each day.

Wish me luck, my friends, because I’m going to need all the support I can get.

Tuesday, June 19, 2018

What would Hobo do?

By Wylie Hudson


Now that Hobo is gone, I’ve had to take over the job of minding Dad, which is a full-time job because he’s always coming up with some hairbrained idea of fixing something around the house.

Yesterday started as a normal day. Dad and I ate breakfast and took a little walk, but then, Dad announced he was going to replace the switch on Mom’s floor lamp so she wouldn’t have to hold a flashlight to read by any longer.

My heart sank on hearing this because Dad is not the handiest dad on the planet and I still remember the saga of his replacing the faucet on Mom’s laundry tub a couple of weeks ago, which is a story that is best left untold.

I walked over to have a look at the lamp. It had a round, heavy base with the electric wire entering it and a hollow pipe about 4 feet long attached and then a heavy light fixture screwed on the side near the top. The switch in question protruded through a hole in the top of the fixture and was attached to the socket.

Dad came out with a pair of pliers and unscrewed the nut holding the switch to the fixture after first unplugging it from the wall, and that’s where the problems began. He grabbed the light bulb and started to pull the socket out of the fixture, and it wouldn’t move!

He then took the bulb out and grabbed the socket with a pair of pliers and gave it a hard yank, but it only moved an inch or so. After sitting back and thinking the situation over, he decided the electric wire must be going through so many twists and turns when passing through the fixture base that friction wouldn’t allow it to slide.

The worst point was a sharp bend where the wire made a turn from the upright pipe into the fixture so Dad decided to unscrew the fixture and then feed the wire through a bit at a time. Simple, right? WRONG! The screws holding the fixture to the pipe had a square hole in the top, and Dad didn’t have a tool to fit. He took a small chisel and started trying to turn the screw by tapping the edge but couldn’t move it. I raised my head toward heaven and closed my eyes. Hobo, what do I do now, I asked. The answer came to me in a flash. Cut a slot across the top of the screw and use a flat blade screwdriver!  

When I suggested it to Dad, he thought it was a great idea and proceeded to get his Dremel out and make the cut. Naturally, the screws came right out, but he still couldn’t pull any slack. I then suggested that he reach up inside and cut the wires. This worked great, and he finally got the socket and switch out.

After a number of other missteps, he finally got the new switch and socket installed and he was ready to test his work. He turned the switch on, but nothing happened. I opined that it might work better if he plugged it in first. After that, it still didn’t work, and I asked if it would work better with a bulb in the socket. When he screwed in a bulb, it lit up so he was good to go, and the half-hour repair job only took about eight hours instead of the hour maximum it would take a normal dad to do the job.

He then picked up the lamp by the center of the pole to return it to Mom, and I noticed something odd on the bottom and asked Dad what it was. He laid the lamp on its side and peered at the bottom.

“Darn,” he said, “I forgot all about the little clamp on the wire that prevents the wire from being pulled loose if the wire is jerked.”

I again raised my head toward heaven and closed my eyes. “Hobo,” I said, “what do I do now?”

The answer came back in big blazing letters. BITE HIM! The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Dad’s hand with the middle finger extended so I reached out and took a bite. I guess I bit a little harder than I had intended because red water started pouring from both sides of his finger. It didn’t take Mom long to stop it, but she wasn’t too happy with the mess on her new carpet.

When we got up this morning, his finger was very swollen and he was crying about not being able to tackle the next repair job. At least, I’m safe for today while he just sits around and reads.

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Regal, but not welcomed

By Hobo Hudson

An unlikely guest visited my cafeteria last week. I felt honored that such a regal bird, a hawk, showed interest in the food I offer, but he must have received the wrong information of what is on the menu. I provide peanuts, corn and bird seed for my customers who are squirrels, ducks, pigeons and small birds.

Somehow, Mr. Hawk must have thought my customers were items on the menu. Luckily, none of them were around at the time of his visit, and I asked him in a stern barking to please leave my premises. He obliged and flew off grumbling that would be the last time he visited my cafeteria.
Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Collections for a high wall

By Sabrina Hudson

My kitty brothers, Thomas and Tiger, and I are going to build a wall, a high wall, a lovely wall, a very lovely and high wall. It will go up around our private domain to keep our doggy brother Wylie out of our bathrooms. He’s stealing our brown-tinted golden nuggets, and we cannot allow that.

I had a hard time convincing Thomas and Tiger to go for this outstanding, extremely outstanding project, but they finally agreed. Even my doggy brother Hobo is in on it, and so we have the best, the bestest consultant on our side. With his entrepreneurial flair and financial know-how, the wall will be an incredible master piece and the prototype of many more to come.

We haven’t decided yet on the design but have accepted an array of free professional samples, already put up, and are playing with numerous suggestions by renowned artists, also free of charge.

Any donation will be a well worthy contribution and will increase our own kibble fund so that we can start building the wall in earnest. We appreciate each payment sent to:

Sunday, September 17, 2017

My first experience with a hurricane

By Wylie Hudson


We all came through Hurricane Irma without many problems. In fact, I did it in style, having finally gotten my wish to sleep on the big bed.

The night Irma paid us a visit, my parents, my kitty siblings and Hobo and I hunkered down in the master bedroom. We all went to bed around 10 p.m., and by then, the wind had already picked up speed.

Mom sat down on the bed, and before she could say anything, I mustered all the strength I have in my legs, and with one jump, I landed next to her. To my surprise, she didn’t shoo me down and instead hugged me and told me I could stay. I snuggled up to Mom, then turned over to Dad and then found a comfortable place between them. But not before I pushed Mom to the edge of the bed so that she had to hold on to me to keep from falling onto the floor.

While Hobo kept sleeping in his own bed, Thomas and Tiger, my kitty brothers, joined us on the big bed. And then, my kitty sister, Sabrina, jumped on it and walked around and around asking again and again if everybody was comfortable. She did that for about an hour until she settled down somewhere when we lost electricity and our night light went out.

By that time, the wind was gusting at full force and lashing at the house. One time during the night, I heard a couple of loud bangs, and it turned out to be part of our fence that the storm had knocked down. The wind had also toppled our three papaya trees. We woke up to a dark and warm house, which would feel like an oven for the following two days, but everything else was OK.

All in all, and I think I can talk for everybody, it was a sleepover of which we’ll have fond memories.
Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Be careful what you wish for

By Wylie Hudson

I wish I’d known the meaning of the saying: “Be careful what you wish for” earlier. I would have been less tempted to pine for Hobo’s diet canned food. As is it, I got my wish but the hard way.

I had to get sick myself before someone finally offered me a similar food to what Hobo is eating nowadays. I woke up Saturday morning, not feeling well at all. Mom took one look at me and knew something was wrong. She said she could see it on my face. And she was right. I didn’t eat my breakfast and didn’t even touch a treat.

Now, Hobo can sometimes be cautious with his food, especially when he thinks it’s tainted with drugs, but I gobble down everything in front of me that looks edible without hesitation. So, Mom didn’t waste a second when I turned my nose away from the food, and off we went to the clinic.

The vet didn’t find anything alarming apart from my temperature which was a tad elevated. He gave me a few injections and then offered me something to eat. OMD, I thought, that smelled and looked almost like Hobo’s food, and I scarfed it all down and licked the bowl clean.

We went back home with a bag full of canned food for me and some pills for nausea. I didn’t need to take the pills and happily started to eat on my new diet. I feel better again but still a little bit sluggish.

This was certainly not the way I wanted to get meals similar to Hobo’s. I’d rather stick with my usual dry food than being sick.

Thursday, August 10, 2017

Recuperating takes time

By Hobo Hudson
I guess having been living together with cats almost all my life, I acquired their peculiarity of having nine lives. I don’t know how many I’ve used up already and for how many my last health scare counts, but it surely was a roller coaster ride.

A week after my kidney treatments at the vet’s clinic, I ended up at the clinic again. As before, I had stopped eating, and as before, without ado, Mom had hauled me to the vet. This time, I had a slight fever. The vet kept me for observation and gave me injections to bring my temperature and my nausea down.  A couple of hours later, I asked him for some of the sandwich he was eating, and not wanting to share it with me, he called my parents to pick me up and feed me at home.

I took a bite or two of the food Dad served me. This wasn’t anything like the meat I smelled earlier that was in the vet’s sandwich. On the contrary, this was the slop that came out of a can and made up my new, strict diet. I told Dad he could have the rest of my canned food. Dad wasn’t happy about it, and neither was Mom.

The next morning, I chomped down my diet food. My thinking was that it would be unfair to upset Mom and Dad even more by my refusing to eat than they already were. The food wasn’t really all that bad. In fact, my doggy brother, Wylie, and my kitty sister, Sabrina, said it was excellent while they were trying to steal it from under my nose.

But the main reason I chomped it down was because I was suddenly hungry. Dad couldn’t have slipped an appetite-boosting pill into my mouth without me knowing it, could he?

Anyway, I’m on high alert now for anything that I swallow to make sure it’s not drugged. Otherwise, I’m eating more or less regularly again, but my appetite isn’t what it used to be. I think gobbling down a big, juicy steak for a few days at dinner would bring back my passion for food in no time.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Retirement comes with unexpected surprises

By Hobo Hudson


Wow, I had another close call and suffered from a health problem due to old age. It crept up on me like the pancreatitis last year and then made its sudden appearance by giving me nausea. I quit eating from one day to the next. It was a red flag for my parents, and without waiting to see if I got my appetite back, they took me to the vet. A blood test showed that I had kidney failure.

For two days, I spent most of my time at the vet clinic having my kidneys flushed out. Mom took me there early in the morning, and Mom and Dad picked me up late in the afternoon. Even though I received excellent care from the doctor and the staff at the clinic, I hated to stay there and wasted what could have been a productive day at home. Despite being retired from the corporate life, I’m a busy dog and have important things to do.

I am back at home for good and trying to regain my strength. My kidneys are working better again, but the bad part is: I have to follow another diet. Last year, it was a low-fat diet—I loathed it—now, it’s an even more restrictive diet, limited to special canned food for kidney problems. It doesn’t do much for whetting my appetite, but I force myself to cram it down my throat.

To make matters worse, the vet prescribed antibiotics for me to take. All my explaining that I don’t do drugs is like talking to a brick wall, and Dad has been determined to spurt liquid medicine into my mouth. So far, I have let him win our fight twice a day, but I have the feeling by the time the bottle of antibiotics is empty, I’ll be the winner.


About Hobo

This was Hobo Hudson, my doggy brother, a little terrier mix with black fur. He became famous after his first attempt at writing stories, which was an article published in the newsletter of our local animal shelter, the same shelter in which I ended up years later before Hobo and his parents adopted me. Hobo’s fame quickly spread as he made a name for himself as a business dog and an adventurer. To keep his memory alive, my doggy sister, my three kitty siblings and I, Wylie Hudson, are continuing his blog. Our mom is the blog’s editor.

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