Category: Hobbes

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The Big Snow Ripoff

We went all through Thanksgiving with no snow.

Not a flake.

Then came Christmas.

Still wearing sandals.

What is this, California?!

No. It’s Utah–you know–“the greatest SNOW on earth!”

A bunch of us actually love the stuff and we’re feeling teriffically scamed.

Then one night, for some odd reason, I was awake at 4 am. I just woke up and decided to see if it was even cold out side.

It was.

AND IT WAS SNOWING!!!!

It was covering the grass…

and my car! I was so happy!! At last, at last!! Snow!! Heeeee!

Of course It was gone by morning and the grass was as thick and green as the fake stuff at the soccer field. No one even believed me when I told them that it really did snow.

But I have a witness.

This dude saw it too.

So HA!

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Hobbes Is Perplexed

“Dali is here one moment…

and disappears behind the curtain the next.

What are those tiny, squeeky sounds coming from the closet?! I’m gonna wait right here and see.

And now she’s back! Something fishy is going on here!

That’s it!! I’m telling on you.

“MOMMMMMM!”

Ohhh Hobbes.

 

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Good Old Hobbes

Well this stately fellow is feeling a bit better these days.

A few weeks ago, he had a nasty run in with the bad side of life.  Imagine this big, old, friendly kitty trotting down the sidewalk when he comes up on a man standing on the side of the street.  He walks up to the guy and lets the man pet him.

Sounds innocent enough…right?

Sure, till the guy grabs him and throws him in his creepy dog-catcher pen and drives away with him!! I get a call after 2 days to find that my poor boy has been in cat jail for 48 hours!!! He’s chipped so they could have called me sooner–but they didn’t.

There had been no complaint filed. The guy just picked him up– because he could and tramatized my poor boy for two days.

When I got him back he hid in the basement till the next morning and growled and hissed at everyone for a week.

I’D like to growl at a few people right now. The nerve……..

Ok, now that THAT’s off my chest, I feel much better. But they better not do that again!!

I know the mayor.

They’ll be sorry.

I mean it.

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Pretty Quiet These Days

People keep asking…

“How’s it going, without Rhen there?”

I always say, “Oh, it’s fine. I’m good.

I just talk to the cats.”

That is…if they’d wake up.

Sheesh.

 

 

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The Grip of Death

When you see this picture, you may think, “Awwww. Cute, gentle, little Hobbes is having his neck scratched. Isn’t that just so sweet?”

However, I’d like to draw your attention to those paws…the ones with the death grip around my hand. Turns out, when a 20 pound cat grabs your hand to assure that you don’t stop scratching his neck until HE says you can–on pain of certain death…

you just kinda keep scratching his neck, whether you want to or not…

till the end of time…

or until he falls asleep.

Good grief.

A slave in my own house.