Happy Birthday, my friend! Hobbs will be 12 on Monday, Halloween here in The U.S. He was born on October 31st, 1999. I actually met him sometime around the middle of December of that same year, after he had been weened from his mother.
I had had a Miniature Schnauzer before and wanted another. I used the same method to pick out Hobbs as I did to pick out Fritz, my previous dog. I walked among the litter and let him choose me. The first little one, male or female, that made a move to investigate me would be the winner. That winner, as you have all come to know, is Hobbs. He was the winner then and has been ever since.
He was always a lively pup. I remember playing chase with him. He would chase Pedro, Tony, or me around the living room, barking and having a good time. Whenever we would run around the couch so that he couldn’t get us, at times, he would just take the shortcut by jumping right over the couch. That gave us no end of amazement, pleasure, and fun. His days of jumping over the couch are long gone. His jumps now end up on the couch; this seems to be a sleep-inducing behavior. He doesn’t seem to be able to make it off of the couch without a nap, even though he’s been told hundreds of times not to get on the couch. Oh well. Age has its privileges and it is just a piece of furniture.
Another sport of his was to chase rabbits and squirrels. As far as that is concerned, he’s probably 0 – 950. He never caught one single rabbit or squirrel, but then again, it wasn’t about the capture, it was always about the chase.
He sleeps a lot now, and occasionally, I’ll hear a dream-state bark or growl. Who knows what he’s dreaming about. I certainly don’t. I’m just glad that he’s still around.
Happy Birthday, pup! No matter how old you get, you’ll still be my ‘pup’!