My Brother was a Hobo

My brother was a Hobo when Mom and Dad first met him. It was over at Grandma Toots' house and he had been walking around the neighborhood for a few days. Daddy pulled up in his lemon colored caddie and Mac took notice. I don't know if it was the color of the car or the smell of the leather...but Mac sat across the street and watched Daddy putting some oil in the car's engine.
   Mother was there to care for Grandma Toot;s that was before she came here to live for a while. Mom decided right away there was something wrong-- a pretty small dog was not suppose to be wandering. She watched Mac come closer and closer to the car to watch Daddy. So, mom took a few treats and went down to the driveway.
   She looked Mac in the eye and asked him if he was lost. He just stared at her. She told him it was time to come in and get some food and water. She put down the treats like a trail and he followed her in the house munching all the way.
  Grandma Toots lived up a very high hill from the railroad tracks and when Mac got in Grandma's house he started to tell mother all bout his trips around the country on the train. He was a Hobo and he would stay with mommy and be a good inside dog, but he was a Hobo and at any time he would have to get out his stick with the red bandanna attached to it and move on.
   I wasn't born yet, but mommy knew how to care for a lost doggie. She did a search of the Humane Society, the papers and walked him around Grandma Toots' neighborhood with no luck. She thought for sure a family would be missing him and did a poster...but after two weeks she decided he would have to stay with her.
   He was wild...part Westie and part Schnauzer meant his terrier genes were boiling. He dug up her lawn and chewed her flowers, he chewed Daddy's slippers and Mom's fancy purse. He went potty on furniture and barked way to loud at the front door.
   Thank goodness my Mommy knows how to tame Hobo's. Slowly he learned to have an inside voice and not to destroy things. He learned to to fetch a ball and play with his toys. He learned how to walk on a lead without pulling too hard and he learned how to sit nice and quiet to take treats.
   By the time Mommy adopted me; Mac was very new man. His Hobo days were long behind him...but he still showed me his backpack and bandanna stick in the closet. Mac taught me about Hobo stew and how to chase away anything bad from our yard. Mac taught me about how to sit in just the right spot in the sunshine to get warm but not to hot. He also shared how to drop a treat and lose it so mom gave him another treat and then he would find the first one...brilliant.
   Mac and I spent everyday in front of the window by the front door just checking out the other dudes in the neighborhood. Every once in a while Mac would escape the back yard...and he would run like the wind...but Daddy would just get in the old yellow caddie and drive down the street and Mac would come running to go for a ride. He was a cool guy and even though he thought PINK was the color of dirt...he loved me and kept care of me. He was always my big brother...he lived with mom for 15 years and she thought he was about 2 when he had arrived.
   Mac has been sick for quite some time now...today he took his Hobo stick and bandanna from the closet and went over the Rainbow Bridge. He wasn't sad; he said he missed the guys that he used to ride the rails with and he was going to join them on the road again.

   I am still sitting by the front window watching for Mac to return...I think I could see the red bandanna from far off..but I have seen nothing yet. Mommy and Daddy are sad but Mac knows his way around. He will get tired of traveling and come back one day...ready for a ride in Daddy's yellow caddie.