There’s just no doubt about it-Hobbs is special. But first I have to tell you a little bit about his background.
I purchased him from a friend who was breeding rag doll cats. For fun, she decided to breed her rag doll male with a non-pedigree, long-haired black cat. What resulted was this.
Even if you’re not a cat lover, you have to admit, he’s one handsome little guy.
But he is a mess. My first clue was the day we brought him home.
The day we arrived to pick up Hobbs was a sunny, spring afternoon. The little guy was cozily snuggled against his mother’s warm side, nursing away when my friend reached down, pulled him away from his mother’s nipple and then shut him up inside a hard, plastic cat carrier. His curious brothers and sisters sniffed all around the outside of the carrier as he cried and clawed at the holes along the side.
We headed to the car and began what felt like a long twenty-five minute drive. His mournful wailing echoed and penetrated deep into our hearts, filling us with guilt. With all his baby strength, he clawed at the holes with surprising force.
Then something bizarre happened. Halfway through the drive, he suddenly became silent, curled up into a ball and fell fast asleep, as though someone had flipped a switch.
We arrived home, set the carrier on the floor and opened the door. I fully anticipated he would bolt out and find the nearest piece of furniture to hide under, but he didn’t. Instead, he began sniffing and exploring every corner of the house. My son pulled out a cat toy and began sweeping the attached feather across the floor. Hobbs immediately pounced on it with great kitten ferocity.
He never once cried for his mother. He settled right in and quickly became king of the home and it was clear we were his subjects.
With an insatiable curiosity and a knack for getting himself into boatloads of trouble, he is a source of entertainment that never gets old.
With an intelligence that is most uncanny sometimes, and a steely determination to do what he wants, it has been a challenge to know how to peaceably live with him. He has been known to open doors and escape outside; open doors to upper kitchen cabinets and climb inside; and he thinks nothing of turning and pouncing on you if he’s decided he’s had enough of you.
Our saving grace has been spray bottles filled with cold water. Every room has one strategically placed and he knows it. A look of naughtiness in his eyes, a shake of the water bottle in response and he flies out of the room, only to come back later when no one is looking.
Despite his incorrigible behavior, he has a sweet, cuddly side that makes the heart swoon.
Many times I threatened to give him away, only to have my heart softened when I saw him sleeping so sweetly. Besides, I knew it would take a special person to appreciate this fluffy ball of dynamite and I couldn’t stand the thought of Hobbs falling into hands that wouldn’t appreciate his quirky ways, so he has stayed and will stay.
And I’m glad. This will not be the last time you will hear of him for he is a never-ending source of stories and lessons.