Sunday, September 15, 2013

Grand Opening—Hobo’s spa addition

By Hobo Hudson

I’ll be having a grand opening for my spa addition tomorrow at low tide featuring a newly discovered source of mud packs.

I discovered this quite by accident yesterday afternoon when I was inspecting my backyard and saw a small black crab sitting on top of my seawall. I naturally walked over and gave him a friendly sniff, and the ungrateful little critter nipped me on my nose. Lunging at him to give him a nip in return, I lost my footing and, to my surprise, I found myself at the bottom of my seawall up to my tummy with my legs buried in a soft fragrant smelling mud.

The aroma of the mud was indescribable. I can only try to compare it to decomposed fish, dead oysters, decomposed leaves, sea grass and maybe a little salt and iodine thrown in.

Mom knew I couldn’t get out of the muddy canal, so she screamed for Dad, and he came running out. After swiftly accessing the situation, he said I was all right, and he would get a ladder to rescue me. Mom would have none of that and said there was no time to waste. So, Dad told her to sit on the edge of my dock and he would lower her down to rescue me. After getting down, she pulled me out of the mud and placed me on my dock, but now, Mom couldn’t get out and was forced to wait in the mud for Dad to get a ladder.

When she finally climbed out, she took a look at me and told me Dad would have to give me a few baths before she would allow me back into the house. She also seemed unhappy that her favorite pair of white pants had the mud splashed all over them and she couldn’t get it washed out after three washings. The pants look sort of splotchy and remind me of the old tie-dyed garments I’ve seen in old photos. Maybe Mom can start a new fashion fad when she wears them?

Right now, Dad is building a ramp from my dock down to the bottom of my seawall, thinking I can use it to get out if I ever fall into the canal again. Little does he know about the mud pack spa addition I plan to open at low tide tomorrow. I’m sure you will want a bath after absorbing the health benefiting mud pack, and I’ll have Mom do this part. Of course, you may not recognize her since she said she is ordering a gas mask because I still smell awful after three baths.

The grand opening price of the mud pack and bath will be ten kibbles plus one kibble additional if you would like a fur conditioner and blow-dry after the bath. Please make your reservations early because only limited spaces are available.

Monday, September 9, 2013

The white pigeon

By Hobo Hudson

Here’s another stranger that has shown up at my cafeteria. It’s an all white pigeon but not an albino because he has one black feather and his eyes are not pink.

He showed up a few days ago and was a little shy around Dad at first but seems to fit in with all the other pigeons without any animosity because of his color. Dad says he can’t remember seeing a white pigeon before, so I guess this pigeon is another strange cafeteria visitor.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

New critters at my cafeteria

By Hobo Hudson

When I returned to my house this morning after making my backyard inspection, I noticed two new visitors sitting on my rooftop watching all the squirrels and birds eat breakfast. I barked a friendly welcome, and one of them quacked back at me and asked if I would mind them having breakfast and then taking a quick dip in my pool.

“Of course not,” I barked. “There’s plenty of corn in the upper dining room and lots of birdseed in the lower dining room.”

The two new visitors immediately flew to the upper dining room, but their webbed feet couldn’t grasp the small rail so they flopped onto the lower dining room.

“Gee, Hobo, we’d sure like to enjoy your corn up there, but we just can’t sit up there to eat it.”

“Try some of the spilled corn on the ground,” I barked, “and I’ll tell my servant to put some corn on the fence rail for you from now on.”

About the time they had finished their breakfast, Mom came out to go swimming, and my new visitors were leery about using the pool while she was in it. I assured them that my mom would enjoy the company, so they hopped into the pool and swam alongside her for a few minutes and then flew away, quacking, “Thanks, Hobo. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mom was all excited about our visitors because she had never seen any ducks like that before. Their feet, legs and bills were bright red, while their tummies were black and their sides and back were a mottled brown. In addition, they had white circles around their eyes, and their quacks were sort of hissy.

Mom did a quick computer search and found out they were black-bellied whistling ducks which normally live in Latin America, although a few have been sighted in the very southern United States.

I feel very honored that these two ducks selected my humble establishment for their vacation.


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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