Thursday, July 26, 2012

Proverbs fit for a dog

By Hobo Hudson

I am a dog who finishes what he starts and doesn’t allow anything or anybody to put rocks in his path. Now, a rock literally has gotten the better of me, and for the first time in my life, I’m at my wits’ end.

I fell in love with a girl and failed to win her over. The cause for this total failure in my life was a rock, a solid and shiny granite, I gave her as a token of my love. Instead of sticking to my intuition offering her a ring containing a diamond, I relented after overhearing her and her girlfriend’s tittle-tattle about her hopes of receiving a ring with a big rock from me. Thinking she wanted a rock because it would symbolize a sturdy and lasting relationship, I was all for it and conformed to her wishes. She didn’t see it that way at all, but on the contrary, she felt insulted and ended our blossoming courtship.

Days have gone by and I’m crestfallen, full of heartache and unable to concentrate. In my despair, I pulled out my little book of inspiration and pawed through it to find words of consolation. My eyes quickly caught a proverb written by the English poet Alfred Lord Tennyson: “'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Bone market report

By Hobo Hudson

As my investors know, my hedge fund has been making kibbles paw over paw by swapping bones for little pieces of paper and then shortly swapping the paper back for bones. As a result of all the favorable reports swirling around the Internet, investors have been clamoring for me to allow them to deposit their bones with me, and our little hedge fund has grown large enough to become a market mover in its own right.

Consequently, it has become more difficult for me to operate since my order for a million little pieces of paper drives the price up, and when I’m ready to swap back, my order to sell a million pieces of paper drives the price down. Dad says this is a normal economic phenomenon called “supply and demand.” When more investors want to buy, the price goes up, and when more investors want to sell, the price goes down.

I’m beginning to venture into the futures market and finally decided the time was right to test the market with a small personal investment. I’ve been seeing gasoline prices going up and up, so I put a 5-gallon can into my little red wagon and tugged it down to our local gasoline station and filled it up, thinking that when the price got higher, I could sell it to Dad for a nice profit.

My opportunity came this morning when we woke to no electricity and Dad hauled out his generator only to discover that he had no gasoline and our local station had no power and couldn’t pump any gasoline for him. I quickly doubled what I had paid for my gasoline and offered to sell it to Dad for that amount.

Dad screamed, “Hobo, that’s highway robbery! You’re trying to scalp me.”

 “No, Dad,” I replied. “It’s simply a matter of supply and demand. I’ve got the supply, so I can demand whatever price I want.”

That didn’t go over too well with Dad. He grabbed me by my collar and snarled, “That’s not the way things work in this household. You’ve got the supply, and I’m demanding it. I need it for generating electricity to brew my coffee, and I need it now. Do you get the picture?”

“Yes, Dad,” I yelped, rasping and shaking my neck loose from Dad’s grip. “I understand now that you’ve explained it to me. You can have the gasoline free.”

I guess I’m going to lose kibbles on this deal, so I’ll be staying out of the futures market from now on.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Proverbs fit for a dog

By Hobo Hudson

It was 5:30 a.m., and Dad, getting out of bed, rudely woke me and cut short my dream about me buying a truck full of steaks. Too lazy to get up with Dad, I grabbed my book of inspirations, and instantly, my eyes hit a proverb that explains why I have become a wealthy and prominent business dog.

The proverb by FĂ©nelon goes as follows: “The more you say, the less people remember. The fewer the words, the greater the profit.”

Now, I had said earlier that I am in favor of expressing myself loud and clear in order for people to listen and to get my point across. However, compared to people, I am a dog of few words as I quietly put the kibbles in my pockets.

A disastrous new venture

By Hobo Hudson

Mom told me yesterday she wanted to go to Camp Bow Wow, the doggy camp I love to stay at when Mom and Dad go out of town, to take some photos during the camp’s adoption event Find Love on a Leash. Whoa, I thought, what a great idea to bring together dogs looking for a forever home and people looking for a mate without faults.  

Pondering the idea a little bit longer, I thought if I would trot over there myself and take the photos before Mom does, I might meet a sweet little girl, and I also could try my luck at a new profession. I’m always ready for a new challenge and becoming a professional photographer sounds kind of cool.

Early Saturday morning, before anyone in the family woke up, I loaded my little red wagon with the camera I sneaked out of Mom’s office, a jug of water and a bag of kibbles, and off I went. I arrived just in time for the opening ceremony and clicked my first photo. Then, I went from booth to booth and told each dog waiting for a forever home to pose for me so that I could catch him or her from the best possible angle. The right appearance is all important in catching people’s attention. Besides, I also wanted to attract viewers to admire my artistically perfect photographs.

With a thumb hurting from the constant clicking of the camera button, I headed back home after I gave up finding one of the beautiful female doggies willing to accept my invitation for a date. Quickly, I went into Mom’s office to load the photos onto the computer. BOL, I couldn’t find them. There were no photos on the camera. I checked the connection of the cable from the camera to the computer, and then I saw it, the memory card. I had snapped away to capture all those adorable doggies on pictures without having a memory card in the camera. I don’t think photography is my forte.

Sorry, guys no photos from me, but maybe Mom took some photos later and will publish them on It’s worth checking out.


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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