In the song “Break Up In The End”, Cole Swindell reflects on a relationship ended in a painful break-up and concludes that “he’d do it over and over, again and again, even though we break-up in the end.” It’s a touching ballad that captures the feeling we have whenever we suffer a loss of one of our residents. So it was for us with Mr. Hobbs who passed away overnight of natural causes.
As eminence grise, Hobbs had an access all areas pass and each morning after breakfast would wander down to the front pond, take some sunshine and think about how he’d have schooled those insolent geese back in the day. When he tired of nostalgia, he would stumble back for a nap on the bed or by a space heater and wake up in time to lead the charge on the evening buffet.
Last night we couldn’t find Hobbs and feared the worst—drowned, hauled off by a predator or lost. When we resumed the search this morning, we found his body at peace under an outcropping near his favorite spot by the water. In the last few weeks, his back wound had healed but he’d lost weight and balance and was scheduled for testing on Monday. In our heart, we knew he was nearing the end.
2020 took a number of KF favorites—Oscar, McTavish, Victoria, Thumper, Lex—all of whom Mother Nature decided to adopt for her own. In each case, we shook off cost-benefit analysis and were rewarded with loving personalities, entertaining moments and ultimately, heartbreak. Hobbs was no different. He was a gentle soul, kept his purr through unthinkable trauma and left on his own terms. We’d do it over and over, again and again, even though we break up in the end. Mr. Hobbs.