Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Doggy humor: The rabbit hunt

By Hobo Hudson

I woke up this morning with my nose twitching as I detected the delicious aroma of steak wafting through the air and trotted out to the kitchen to be sure of getting my share. Dad looked down at me and said, “Just a minute, Hobo, while I fry you an egg. You need to eat a big breakfast because we’re going rabbit hunting today.” Throwing my head up toward Dad, I gazed at him with big eyes, and my tail started wagging so fast I was afraid it would fall off.

When Dad set my plate in front of me, I quickly gobbled down everything on it and raced to the front door to hurry Dad along. We piled into Dad’s car and began driving far, far away into an area I had never been. I had my nose glued to the open crack in the window so that I could detect the first whiff of a rabbit and, finally, it came. I gave Dad a quick bark to stop. When Dad opened the door, I jumped out with Dad on my heels.

“There, Dad,” I whispered. “Do you see him behind that bush?” “I see him,” Dad replied, “but the ditch is too wide to cross, so we’ll have to find another rabbit.” “Oh yeah? You just watch me,” I barked as my rear legs coiled and I gave a mighty leap, soaring over the ditch on a direct line toward the rabbit.

However, just before landing, the rabbit took off as though his tail was on fire, and I began following as soon as I touched down. He led me on a merry chase all over the pasture until I finally cornered him in a small patch of brush. I opened my mouth to grab him and launched myself the few remaining feet but instead of my toppling him, he broke back the way he had come, and I ended up with a mouthful of dust.

While spitting and sputtering to cleanse my mouth, I heard Dad calling from far away, “Hobo, he’s coming back my way, hurry,” and I began chasing the rabbit back toward Dad.

When I got near Dad, I heard him asking, “Hobo, are you dreaming about chasing a rabbit? You’ve been barking in your sleep, and your legs have been moving all over the place. Calm down so I can sleep.”

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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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