Bob is a dog, he is my dog. He is a pug dog. I love him and he loves me.
Since he came into our family, I began to like every dog. My fiancé said this would happen, but I didn’t believe him. I didn’t like dogs at all since I got bitten when I was small. But now I can’t imagine life without our Bob. Just like some women who didn’t used to like kids but after they had their own babies, they began to like all kids. Bob is our “Bobber”, he is so funny and interesting. For me, he is not just a dog, he is at least half person.
He always gets up earlier than me in the morning. Much earlier - sigh. The first thing he does, of course, is poop and pee. If I don’t wake up after his poop’s done, he will harrumph in my face. That means: “Mom, I’m finished, please wipe my ass.” After a vigorous wipe, he becomes a happy dog again and runs away with his curly tail, which makes a perfect circle on his butt, wagging furiously.
What a Bob!
Another happy thing for Bob, and funny thing for us, is his eating. People like every kind of delicious food and so does Bob. He likes meat, crackers, Pringles, candies and milk and mashed potatoes. When he eats, especially meat, he always devours it ravenously. What a glutton! Just like Bajie eats ginseng fruits and doesn’t know what the flavour is. Sometimes when I feed him, I like to tease him. I dangle the food in the air and Bob stands up expectantly on his two feet. He is quite a dancer! Looking at me eagerly, he starts barking at me in his adorable, rough, gravelly voice if I continue to tease him. Every now and then he pirouettes on the floor like Fred Astaire till he gets the food. Bob is my first pet dog. I don’t know about other dogs, whether they have the same habits or not, but my fiancé has had many, many dogs. He says Bob is completely unique. For instance, peppers. Bob likes peppers very much. He likes the round ones called bell peppers. My fiancé laughs at him, and says “Bob, you are one of a kind!”
What a funny Bob!
He seldom goes out so he is not used to other dogs. Even those who are smaller than him can test his courage. My fiancé calls him a “pussy!” One day, when I came back home, a little dog, part Chihuahua (from Mexico), followed me. He was so tiny and cute, he was not much bigger than a rat! We let him in and put him on the sofa outside of our door. We wanted him to be familiar with the environment, so we played with him and petted him until he was quite comfy with us. Then we brought out the Bobber, since we wanted him to start being comfortable around other dogs. I was afraid Bob might be jealous and they would fight each other. The two dogs began to bark, and growl ferociously. That Chihuahua was just one third the size of Bob, but he was very brave and barked loudly. He was not afraid of Bob at all. As for Bob, he was brave too, with my fiancé’s protection, woofing fiercely from his arms. But without protection? His tail was not a wagging circle any more. Just like a sneaky mouse, Bob ran away quietly. It was like a tank running away from a QQ! You just had to laugh! Eventually they seemed to become more friendly, and Bob even tried a sniff or two of Chihuahua butt! Wow, good play was going on! Of course, then the little dog chased him off again!
What a pussy Bob! -sigh
