I have no particular reason to type this out, except to say that it should be typed out. Bob has zero to do with this site.
Bob was a dog. In fact, he was a not-so-cleverly named pug.
As some of you may know, some of my earliest years were spent on a military base, or very close to it. More often than not, we all stayed on property that was technically on the base but was like standardized homes filling a cull-de-sac. Some of them were quite large.
Not this one, however. No, this one was maybe four blocks by four blocks, and Bob knew it well. "Bob Dog" was usually called "Bob Dog" to the kids of the neighborhood, but Bob was his real name.
Bob,s owner had, at some point in time, just given up trying to make Bob eat regular dog food. I don't recall the actual owner feeding the dog anything other than Pepsi (later Diet Pepsi) and Reece's Peanut Butter cups.
Bob was rotund. Imagine a 30 pound pug.
Bob was run over at least twice. Bob did not much care. He'd go hide and lay down and come back out a few days later.
Bob was on a mission. Bob was on a very important mission, at least to Bob.
He had a certain path to his outside activities - and he was constantly outside, except at night.
What Bob did was go from house to house to house at the houses that had kids. At which point, he'd hound for candy. The dog had a candy addiction.
He was good at it, too. As he'd make his rounds, he'd skip the houses that didn't have people who'd give him candy. When the ice cream truck came by, he knew where and when he should be there 'cause he could pant in the summer and the driver would often give him an ice cream.
He was also good at stealing. If you put a soda on the ground, he'd knock it over and lick it up. He'd taken things out of back pockets, etc. Bob pretty much lived on candy.
Strangely enough, that worked. He lived for like 16 years. I'm pretty sure Bob was a mutant.
Show Posts
