A Day in the Woes of Hobbes

Hobbes is my dog. Sure he lets John walk him and feed him and warm him at night, but he worships me. I am his sun, his moon, his stars. He dwells in darkness without me.

But it went away.

I had kids.

My lap is not his alone anymore.

He has always been a dog that favored the terrier grumpiness.

Now, he just looks at me like this.

Here is a day in the life of Hobbes.

5 AM: Tall guy better be taking me for a walk this morning. I have pee mail to check and reply to.

5:15 AM: It’s raining? Turn around, Idiot. I ain’t getting wet.

5:20 AM: Dry food. Again. I hate this shit. Maybe if I roll one piece around my mouth at a time and let it get soggy, I can pretend it is delicious. GGGGRRRRRRRRR. Fuck off, Snickelfritz, this may be shit, but it is my shit. I do not care there is a gate of metal between us, back off! I will defend my sawdust bites with my last growl.

5:45 AM: Well, I sucked all that crap down. Now I really have to crap. It’s still raining. Fucker. I’ll just go under the piano.

6:00 AM: (Jumps on bed.) Dammit when did the smelly food droppers get here? No mom goddess room for me…. I know. I can sleep on her crotch. She loves that.

7:00 AM: Now they are awake! Leave the tail alone, little fuckers. Grrrrr. Watch the face! Goddamn, I hate the hot dog dance.

8:00 AM: Stop the tanturm, screaming girl child. If you didn’t want to share the banana, you shouldn’t have gotten down from the table. A bowl of Cheerios on the coffee table is also free game, whining boy thing.

8:50 AM: WHERE ARE YOU GOING WITHOUT ME AGAIN? WHY MUST YOU LEAVE ME LIKE THIS! I WILL PINE IN ABJECT HEARTBREAK!

At least she took the little fur pullers.

9:15 AM: Shut up, Snick, there is nothing out there but a leave. Dumbass.

SLEEP.

3:00 PM: OH MY GOD YOU ARE HOME! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH. YOU WERE GONE FOR DAYS I JUST KNOW IT. LOOK I AM SO EXCITED MY WHOLE BUTT IS WIGGLING.

Damn. The monsters are back too. And they are sticky! Stay back! BACK! GRRRR

Of course, I will finish your lollipop.

3:15 PM: What do you mean I can’t sit in your lap?! There is so room. SEE?! (wiggle wiggle grrr humph squeeze) Right here. Don’t breath too deeply.

Lay off the love, inane babbler. I hate you. Though you are warm. And yes, I do like goldfish crackers, thank you.

3:20 PM: WHY ARE YOU GETTING UP? That one’s butt didn’t smell that bad. I was comfortable, dammit.

3:23 PM: The lap is back. Yes, it is. I love you.

3:33 PM: AGAIN WITH THE GETTING UP?! No, don’t do that. I was enjoying Shaun the Sheep. I hate it when you play Wii. Keep that remote away from me, you ridiculously flailing spawn boy.

5:00 PM: Tall guy, it is about time you got home. Feed me.

5:02 PM: Dry food again?! Back the fuck off, Snick.

7:00 PM: I love enjoying my food and taking my time over a meal. Why is everyone else upstairs?

7:10 PM: Yay, tall guy is trying to drown the whiners. Go for it, tall guy!

Oh, just a bath? Well, serves the little shits right.

8:00 PM: No, girl thing, this pillow is mine! Enough with your shoo.

Mommy, you are shooing me too?! Why, why, how have I wronged you? Fine, I will get down.

8:03 PM: What? She sat up. That totally makes the pillow fair game.

Fine. I will be in your room. That pillow will have to do.

8:30 PM: Aren’t they asleep yet?!

9:00 PM: Finally. Wait, I can’t have this pillow either? But, I love you. Fine.

Did you know your crotch is really warm? It is totally the best sleeping spot. Oh wait, tall guy is here too. His crotch is bigger and warmer. But I still love you the best.

OH MY GOD, SNICK, YOU SO CAN JUMP UP ON THE BED. STOP WITH THE WHINING! tall guy, please, do something about that. You’re snoring. SNORING. Wake up and help the special needs dog already.

I can’t believe I have to put up with these beings. Except you, Mom. You are so special. Why have you forsaken me? I’d sleep on you, but tall guy really is warmer. Unless you want to give me the pillow.

Pie


“Casting for the Future.”

“Casting what? What does that mean?”

“Like casting a line into the future.”

“No.”

“Why not? It’s symbolic.”

“It sounds like American Idol for acting.”

“Oh. Good point. Well, you come up with something then.”

“W-T-F”

“So you got nothing.”

“What? It’s ironic.”

“No it’s not.”

“It is if it’s marketed the right way.”

“I-D-K. S-M-F-H. hashtag shitmydadsays.”

“OK, OK. It’s better than fishing imagery.”

“Hater. Pull into Sheetz. I want a soda. I’ll b-r-b.”

“Sheesh, I get it already…. Hey, what about Kindling?”

“Stop just looking around the car for ideas.”

“Huh?”

“You totally got that from the Kindle lying on your backseat.”

“Oh. Yeah, maybe. Still Kindling has a ring to it.”

“It gets set on fire and burned to ash.”

“It gets the fire started. It starts thing. It’s a trendsetter.”

“And only sixty-five on Amazon.”

“Fine. What the hell do you have there? That’s more than a soda.”

“I was hungry too.”

“And also stocking up for the zombie apocalypse? Hey, what about…”

“No way, Rick Grimes.”

“What all you got there?”

“Let’s see… Doritoes, Tastykakes, mixed nuts. And check this out, a little pie!”

“Seriously?! We’re in the car for like six more hours with no A/C. That pie is doomed.”

“But it’s like a pie for a midget. I was going to take a picture like I was a giant eating a pie.”

“And then eat the pie like Cookie Monster or something? You will get pie all over my car.”

“I guess I should have gotten a fork.”

“Ya’ think.”

“You need one of those tiny fridges that plug into the cigarette lighter! Then I could be a giant getting a little pie out of a little fridge.”

“Yes, because of all the things my car needs, the most important is a tiny pie fridge.”

“Exactly!”

“But, man, come on. Don’t you know that a tiny pie fridge is the number one thing car thieves look for?”

“We can make a fake console to hide it behind. A secret pie fridge.”

“Secret Pie Fridge?”

“Yeah…. Secret Pie Fridge.

“SECRET PIE FRIDGE!”

“Hashtag it, Bro.”