Bob was smart, dignified and well-behaved. A gentlemen. He was one of those dogs you could take anywhere with his nicely mannered and friendly personality. People were drawn to him in the same way that I was. His large head, accomodating an equally large brain, made for successful training sessions. He was a quick study and fun to work with. We trained him to sit, come, stay, speak and roll over. Performing on command, I could always count on him to put on a show for heartwarming entertainment. His appearance could be undeniably intimidating , and he seemed to have a serious look on his face most of the time. I learned after a while, that he was just nonchalant and not serious at all.

Be that as it may, I have seen grown men, of impressive stature, back down to the sidewalk from the front porch when Bob walked towards the door. His PitBullness protected me, and his gentleness assured me he would never do harm, and he never did. He went everywhere with us, even long road trips for weeks at a time.

Bob accompanied me regularly to my office and sort of became the team mascot. He was content to sit under my desk all day with the occasional glance at co-workers walking by. He never got promoted to his own cubicle, but I thought he deserved it. I have a picture of him somewhere, wearing my headset and barking out financial advice to his shareholders. Maybe he had insider information on firehydrant futures.

Bob regularly pilfered cat food, would often steal food from unattended plates and kept the floors clear of any loose crumbs or tidbits. On one occasion, he ate an entire package of hamburger buns that were left on the kitchen island, then another time ate a whole cube of butter. I'm surprised that he didn't end up with any digestive disturbances from that, but his coat was very shiny for a long while.

Bob was a young 8 years old when he died. I miss him.