If you’ve read ANY of my posts about Hobbes–from the time he was a kitten…
then you probably already know what a tough guy he is.
He’s always been pretty much Rhen’s cat and would barely let me touch him, sometimes even trying to duke it out with me as to who actually runs this joint.
I’ve always loved him, but I’ve often felt like he just didn’t have any use for me, and would much rather be a man’s cat.
But since his run-in with the law a few months back, he’s been a very different fellow. Sad in a way, but also…
interesting.
Oh, sure–he still comes in all dirty and scratched up from his latest stint on neighborhood-bad-cat patrol–for which we are all soooo grateful.
But now, when he’s finished with his tough-guy duties outside, he always comes and finds me…where ever I am.
He adamently gets between me and the silly puzzle, or silly book, or silly computer that’s taking all my attention so that I will pet him, or scratch his back or ears, or just…hold him.
I think he just needs assurance that his home and his people are still here and that no more wicked dudes are coming to get him.
And after all these years, I think he’s finally decided…
that he’s safe…
with me.
I love you Hobbes.
