This adventure of my life starts on a warm summer day. I was at my Grandfather’s farm not the first time, but one I’ll never forget. The farm was full of surprises for a six year old boy, and it had a special ingredient named Bob, a white Labrador retriever. He was said to belong to my Uncle George, but every one knew Bob was free as the birds in the sky, and if you were lucky enough to find him around the farm, no matter how old you were he was right by your side. I happened to catch him on a good day when he wasn’t nursing any wounds from raccoons or skunks and he seamed to smile when he saw me get out of my parents car. I ran right to him and gave him a big kiss right between his floppy ears. I don’t know how old he was but because of the scars on his face and legs, I knew he saw a lot of action in his days. I remember one very cool trick he knew and it wasn’t shaking hands or sitting. All though he knew all the simple tricks, when you said: “SICK EM, SICK EM. RATS SICK EM BOB!” He would get into a frenzy digging and look for something to attack, most likely rats.                                             Now on this day we started off down the dirt road till we reached the creek in the meadow behind my Grandfather Pap’s house.  My Uncle George called me snapper, because no matter were I went it didn’t take long for me to find water. I loved playing in the creeks, checking out the water bugs that could walk on the water. Some wielded little ores that rowed them across the water far above the hundreds of minnows, tadpoles, and guppies that made a meal of the water bugs when they got hungry. I always came back wet and muddy, but how else is kid going to learn anything about nature. They say fishing for good time starts by throwing in your line, and I got in hook, line, and sinker. Bob and I played the full length creek that day, and before we knew it we entered Leffler’s land. Leffler was a tough old man who could hold on to the electric fence, when it was turned on. I was shocked all the time and it didn’t feel good, I learned that electric can travel through water, blades of grass, wood and even pee. I guess you could call it electricity 101, learning the hard way and never forgetting it.                                           Now my Grandfather mostly kept cows, some pigs, chickens and one bull that never got out of the barn. I always checked the barn and looked over the animals; I tried feeding them or touch the cows and pigs and chased the chickens. I watched my dad hypnotize a chicken once, so I tried a couple of times but could never do it. I always stood at a safe distant from the bull and looked into his black eyes. His snotty nose had a steel ring in it and it made him look mean. I don’t know about you but in my whole short life I never heard anything good about bulls. I thought about poking him with a stick, but nothing would scare him. I wasn’t sure he would even feel it because his skin was so thick. Even the steel gate that separated him and me didn’t make me feel any better.                                                                                                                             Back to the story, Bob and I were facing away from the meadow down in the creek looking at minnows, and it wasn’t long before we were noticed by about twenty of Leffler’s big mean bulls gathering in a pack. I thought to myself, so that’s what they looked like out of the barn. Gulp! Bob and I turned to face the herd and climbed up the bank of the creek, we both looked the situation over and then we looked at each other. Things didn’t look good and we knew It could go ether way. I looked down and there was the only rock around. A flat shale rock a little bigger than my hand so I picked it up. Glancing at Bob as I bent over I saw him perk up, and I knew for Bob there was no turning back. I wasn’t able to get my hand around the flat rock so I palmed it. I thought about David and Goliath, a story I learned in church. When I looked back at the heard the lead bull was sniffing and stomping his hoofs on the ground. This rallied the rest around, and the pack seemed get there courage from him. I took notice he was the only one with a ring in his nose like the one in Pap’s barn.  One thing for sure they weren’t backing down, and they were ready defend there turf. I looked back at Bob and he looked up at me, I could almost hear him say “I’m with you, and I won’t leave your side till the death.” A real life threshold moment for a little boy and his dog, run like cowards or stay and see what they got. When they packed themselves together pawing the ground, shacking there heads, and getting ready to charge they jockeyed around for the best spot behind their leader. They seemed to be saying “Bravest first! Let me in front.”  Just then they charged us with all they had, the ground was shacking under my feet as they closed the gap on us. I thought don’t shoot till you see the whites of their eyes, and that didn’t take long. Bob and I made our charge to meet them half way, we were about five feet from old ring nose and I knew I had one chance to smash that rock right between his eyes. “Bulls eye” I yelled and let the rock fly, breaking it on his forehead, sending some of the pieces flying hitting the other bulls. This turned the heard in retreat, with old Bob biting at there feet and barking, I was yelling and flaying my arms about still charging. Bob glanced back with a happy face to see if I was there, as I scooped up another small rock and hit the closest bull on his ass,  Bob also took a last nip or two just in case they got any ideas. That was a good day for me and Bob, and one I’m sure I’ll never forget. It taught me to never back down from anything. Fear profits a boy nothing.                  It wasn’t long after that, riding in the back seat of my parent’s car in the dark. We left my grandfather’s farm and as we passed the Mt Aetna Orchard I saw Bob lying beside the road, I knew he had been hit, so I yelled to my dad to stop the car. He didn’t stop and told me it wasn’t him, to this day I still feel guilty for not insisting we stop, and I wonder if my dad saw him but tried to protect me from the grief I would have suffered, seeing my old buddy lying there dead. I think about this now and wonder if he was trying to follow me home. Bob lives in my heart now and I still cry when I remember back too those days on the farm and things Bob taught about life.                                                                                                                                      Every visit back to the farm I spent hours calling his name, trying to find Bob my old buddy. I just knew he was going to come running up to me all happy and ready for another adventure. The weeks went by and summer drew to a close and I finally gave up looking for him in all the usual places, in every field, nook, and cranny. I finally accepted what I already knew the night I saw him laying beside the road. Things just weren’t the same anymore without him standing in the lane in front of Pap’s house waiting for me to greet him. Dogs never say mean things, or do things too hurt us like people do. They never have to say “I’m sorry”. They just love us, no matter how we look, how old or what color we are. No matter how much we love them they love us more. As old as I am now, Bob will always live in my heart, and sometimes on a special night, if I’m lucky I dream of him.