Thursday, April 21, 2011

Doggy humor: Press release

Ruskin, Fla., April 11, 2011

News and Tales announced today that the famous Hobo Hudson has agreed to come out of retirement and assume the position of Barker for News and Tales, a start-up website.

Hobo is quoted as barking, “Mom’s writing is still excellent, and the humans love it. However, it still appears blah to us dogs, and I plan to enliven her website with stories of interest to us dogs and hope to increase the daily readership by a factor of 50 within a few issues.”

After issuing this brief barkment and giving his mom some quick instructional barks, he rushed off to the local steak house to meet his dad for a celebratory dinner complete with beef beer and marrow bone pie for dessert.
Monday, April 11, 2011

Doggy humor: I’m back

By Hobo Hudson
Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Hello again everybody. It’s sure nice to be back barking with all of you. My old readers who followed the stories I contributed to my mom’s Web page about pets will remember that I used to be a big business dog but had to retire January 1 of last year because Mom’s editors decreed that all her stories had to be factual and local in nature and didn’t believe that my stories were true for some reason.

Oh well, I sure needed a break from dealing with all those cats but now I’m all rested up and ready to tackle another business venture if an opportunity should present itself. Dad retired just before I sold my business, and it’s a full-time job keeping track of him. He’s getting older and a little forgetful so I’m continually reminding him of what I want him to do. He keeps whining that he retired so that he could relax and enjoy himself—not to be my slave—but, hey, what are dads made for if not to satisfy our dogs’ every whim?

Dad is also getting some weird ideas. For example, he read a short article in our newspaper about catnip, used as a tea for hoomans. The story said it acts as a sedative for hoomans and helps them sleep better. He pointed it out to Mom, and she researched it and told him that catnip is also used as a substitute for tobacco. Now, he’s out digging up our whole back yard and says he’s gonna plant the yard with catnip and quit paying the outrageous prices for his pipe tobacco. Mom thinks we’ll probably be overrun by all the neighborhood cats, and she’s probably right.

Dad is also in need of a small amount of remedial training as hoomans seem to have a short memory span in comparison with us dogs. This morning, I followed my usual custom of jumping on his bed and giving Dad a little push to get him moving. When I was sure he was awake, I trotted out of the bedroom to my day bed in the living room for a short snooze while Dad started making the coffee. Since I was more tired than usual, I decided to snooze a little bit longer before getting up for my morning treats. Would you believe it? When I finally dragged myself into the kitchen, that guy wouldn’t stop eating his breakfast to give me my treats. He seems to have forgotten that his sole purpose in life is to cater to my every demand.
Monday, April 4, 2011

Getting my fair share

By Hobo Hudson


Dad and I took a ride up to my bank this morning, and the teller gave me my dog bone for making Dad go to the bank. I carefully laid it on the seat and started barking at her. She asked Dad what I was barking about, and he told her that I was reminding her that she was out of dog bones the last time he came in. She picked up another bone and gave it to me to make up for the one I didn't get earlier.

I carefully laid it on the seat by the first one and started barking again, and she asked Dad again what I was barking about. Dad reminded her that I had to pay interest back when I started my business and needed a loan and that I thought it was only fair that she pay me interest for not having a bone the last time I came in, and so she gave me a half bone more.

Upon receiving it, I cheerfully began eating my loot. Yep, you’ve gotta stand up for your rights when you deal with those bankers.
Sunday, April 3, 2011

I won the big fight

By Hobo Hudson


Dad and I stopped at our Home Depot this morning to pick up a few things and, when we got in line to pay, the lady over at the self serve line came over to get us. I told her real fast that we’re not going to scan, pay and bag it ourselves unless we get a discount and she promised us she would do it all for us.

After she scanned it, she took our money and fed it into a slot, handed us the change and then bagged it for us. I noticed she kept looking from me to a photo taped to her counter and I naturally peeked to see what it was. Would you believe it? She had a photo of ME taped there. It wasn’t very good—more like a police mug shot or something but you could tell it was me all right.

I wonder if they took it the last time we were in. That time, Dad picked up a whole basket full of little pvc pipe fittings and got pulled into the self service line. That time, the lady scanned it and showed Dad where to get his change and where the bags were. I naturally reminded her that she had told us she would do it all for us and, if she wasn’t going to do it, we wanted our money back and we would go through a full service line.
She refused and told us we would have to take everything to the refund desk and start shopping all over so I just told Dad to put each separate item into a separate bag to carry over and then I kept barking and creating a big fuss about it.

After the poor lady at the refund desk had removed all the items from all the bags and scanned them, it was 4l cents short of the amount Dad had paid so I made her void the credit, check all the bags and rescan. Still 41 cents short. By then, the manager had come over to see what all the fuss was about. He ended up just handing Dad the 41 cents and we merrily proceeded to go back and select more fittings and pay through the regular line. Heck, if there isn’t a discount for doing all the work for them, why should we go through a self service line?

Books

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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