Monday, May 7, 2012

Doggy humor: The sad fate of Dad’s old pipe

By Hobo Hudson

My dear friends, it grieves me to have to report the demise of Dad’s old pipe yesterday morning when he absently stuck it into his back pocket and sat on her, thus breaking her neck. Somehow losing her stem in the confusion of trying to save her, Dad had only the bowl left as a memorial to the life and times of this grand old pipe. Because Dad was very upset about the accident, I decided to have a memorial service for her which I hoped would soothe Dad’s mind and help him move on with his life.

We all gathered together late yesterday, and I barked a welcome to all our friends and then asked Mama kitty to meow a few words. Not being able to see, she slowly felt her way to the podium with the assistance of Thomas and began to meow her oration.

As a young cat, she had jumped into Dad’s lap and caught him logging into a computer dating service and seeing him avidly looking over the available girls until his gaze settled on one particular girl sitting sedately all by herself. With a quick click of his mouse, he was in contact with the lovely young girl and, representing himself as a young man looking for a long-term relationship, he asked her to dance. As she rose and turned, Dad’s eye caught her bowl, and it was love at first sight. With a quick click of his mouse, he asked her to visit, and she hopped into a package and was at his door in a matter of days.

Now, 12 years later, both she and Dad have grown old together. Her bowl had two large cracks which she filled with used pipe tobacco, assorted tars and other goodies. Dad felt these only added character to her. When her bowl suffered a hole a few years ago, Dad simply put a dab of clay into the hole, and after it hardened into a rock-like substance, he thought she was as good as new.

When Mama had finished her speech, Blondie took the podium and yowled about the many pleasurable hours she had spent relaxing in Dad’s lap surrounded by a cloud of blue tobacco smoke. Next, Charlene chattered about the lovely aroma she smelled when Dad came out onto the sundeck to serve peanuts, and then, the service closed without a dry eye in the yard.

Dad tenderly transferred the bowl to a small litter, and four young squirrels began to carefully carry her up the old oak tree as a squirrel chorus chattered, “Nearer My Tree to Thee.” The bowl was tightly wedged into a fork near the top of the tree as Dad intoned, “Wood to Wood; Rot to Rot. We consign this old pipe to the mercy of this old oak tree in hopes that the tree will see fit to envelope her and absorb her goodness into life everlasting.”

After the ceremony, Mom presented Dad with a new pipe from the same master carver. Dad hugged Mom and thanked her for the gift, but I noticed a doubtful look on his face as if he was thinking that Mom just didn’t understand the special relationship between a man and his pipe.

Dad has the new pipe lit but says it has an awful taste and will take time to ripen into a treasured companion, and I guess we’ll have to wait to see if the relationship matures.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Proverbs fit for a dog

By Hobo Hudson

Now, here is a proverb that had me jumping out of bed and barking up a storm early this morning: “He who establishes his argument by noise and command shows that his reason is weak.”

I wholeheartedly disagree with Michel de Montaigne who coined the proverb, and I suspect I have many fellow dogs who are on my side. Especially dogs who engage in people training will agree with me that noise and most of all commands are essential tools for teaching humans and necessary to see results. Without barking at them and ordering them around, we dogs wouldn’t be able to get our point across and would accomplish nothing. Begging, whining and prostrating might get us on people’s good side, but it doesn’t serve the purpose of proving our authority.

The same holds true for defending our territory, our home and our family. We have to tell outsiders and trespassers who is the boss and let them know to stay away from us.
We even have to keep visitors at paw’s length by first barking at them before sniffing them out to decide if they are welcome. 

So, I discarded that proverb from my reservoir of early morning inspirations and wrote my own proverb: “The dog who establishes his argument by noise and command shows wisdom and courage.” 


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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