It occurred to me this morning that dogs are just evolved Hobbits. The truth is out there. Well, now it’s out there. Way, way, waaaaay out there…
This line of thinking comes from our dear BekaV, who, upon having daintily sucked down a bowl of kibble, walked into the room, belched in a most ladylike manner, and then began investigating our hands to see if we had any snacks, that she might partake thereof.
She was looking for 2nd breakfast. Or elevensies. Or brunch. Or luncheon. Or afternoon tea. Or dinner. Or supper…
Yup. They’re Hobbits.
— They are constantly looking for food.
— They are strangely attracted to holes in the ground.
— They have pointy ears. (At least mine does…)
— They have hairy feet with rough pads on the bottom, and go about barefoot all the time.
(Well, barefoot all the time except when their people try to make them wear boots – no offense to sled dogs, who are tough and definitely are NOT Hobbits. As are not rescue dogs. Or service dogs. Or military dogs…)
OK – maybe just MY dog is a Hobbit. That’s my story and I’m sticking it to it.
I’m thankful for food, even if my Hobbit is constantly looking for it. I’m thankful for dogs, Hobbits in disguise.
And I’m thankful for humor, and a God who shows His sense of humor in all of creation.
Dogs. Hobbits. Now you know.