Monday, December 14, 2015

The Early Days—Part 2

By Sabrina Hudson

Just after my tail quit bleeding from Pogo’s bite, Dad closed the carrier door and we were off to see the vet again as he had instructed us on our first visit.

The vet was very impressed by how much better I looked after all the good food and rest. He lifted my tail and pronounced my anal gland was fine, but then he touched my rear end, and I let out a yowl and hit the ceiling. After peeling me off it, he told me I had developed an abscess and I would need a little nap again while he fixed it.

Afterwards, he brought me back to the examining room, where Mom and Dad had been waiting. He placed another big bag of medicine in front of us and explained that he had left the abscess open to drain and that I would bleed a little for a few days while it healed.

I fell back asleep at home, and when I woke up late in the afternoon, it was the same old story. I was in my carrier, and Pogo was sitting in front of the door glaring at me.

I was getting mighty tired of this nonsense, so I stood up, bowed my back and stalked out. To my surprise, Pogo turned and ran away. That was the last real trouble I had with her, although I did have to whack her a couple of times when she was eating when I wanted to eat.

My rear end quit bleeding after a few days, and Hobo told me it was now time to start getting acquainted with my new home because I would have to start working to earn my keep pretty soon.

As soon as I set paw inside the house, a handsome young red-furred kitty came running over to meet me. I thought it was a ploy and he would tell me off as Pogo had done, and I attacked him. Instead of fighting with me, he turned around and scurried away, but he returned a short while later and approached me again, and I attacked him again. I didn’t give up on my aggression and the other guy didn’t give up on his good will. At the end, he succeeded and he became my mentor.  


After touching noses and sniffing tails, he offered to show me around. Naturally, the first things he showed me were the food bowl, the water bowl and the bathroom facilities. As we walked about, he told me his name was Thomas and I told him I was Sabrina and confessed that I had never been a house kitty before. He just laughed and said I would love it as soon as I got used to it.

He suggested that I only stay inside the house for a little while then go to the porch door and meow and Mom or Dad would let me out. This worked great, and I was soon spending the whole day inside. At bedtime, I still had to go onto the porch until that magic evening when Hobo decreed that it was time to spend the night inside and start work. I had already been assigned one job, but I’ll tell you about it in my next blog.


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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