Bobo was born in the San Bernardino Mountains in California and lived there for his first 6 months. He was a pure breed from one of the best breeders in the US. Someone in New York City had bought him but never actually got around to transporting him to his new home. A breeder from whom I was planning on getting a puppy in Connecticut called me and told me Bobo's story. She said that she was getting another female from this breeder and that they could ship Bobo along for a greatly reduced price. Normally, Bobo would have cost big money. I paid for shipping. He was flown to Hartford, CT on December 26th, 1997. We picked him up from the breeder's house in Enfield that afternoon and he stayed with us for the next 13 + years.
Bobo was (allow me some anthropomorphizing here) a narcissistic, Napoleonic, overbearing pain-in-the-ass, and we loved him dearly. He was fiercely loyal. He was fiercely EVERYTHING! This is no exaggeration, when he was in his prime he could jump over 6 feet in the air from a stand still. I saw him catch and kill squirrels, a favorite of all dogs, but Rat Terriers are hard-wired to pursue and quickly kill rodents. He might have only stood 16 inches at the shoulder and weighed 19 lbs.; pound for pound he was the strongest animal I ever encountered. I am not certain he really felt physical pain. He once ruptured a ligament in a hind leg while exercising with tennis balls; all he did was stop running and look at me from across the yard. When he began walking with a leg dragging behind him, I knew what happened. The vet told me that he was so strong that his muscles overpowered his frame and pop! Still, he never gave up. He was running 2 weeks later with a kevlar ligament. Regarding vets, Bobo was so muscular that every vet that ever examined him loved to run their hands over his chest and legs. They all remarked on what a perfect specimen he was.
Bobo was not the best dog around children. He knew the limits, and would try to leave the room when too much was happening. Kids, of course, like to follow dogs and Bobo hadn't had a moment's rest for several years, until now, of course.
I remember the day after Courtland was born and I brought home the little hat that was put on his head for the dogs to sniff. The doula suggested this as a way to familiarize the dogs (we also have a female rat terrier named Tessa) with the new baby's smell. Bobo rolled on his back as soon as he smelled it and became instantly submissive. It was quite a sight! I remember that day that we banished him from our bedroom. He had slept at the foot of the bed one night. I left the room to use the bathroom that morning and when I returned, he would not let me back in. He was snarling, showing teeth and his hackles were up. He was protecting Nancy. Truth be told, Bobo and I fought for alpha-male status every day. From that day forward, I put up a gate blocking him from ever entering a bedroom again.
I could go on and on. I won't. My final thoughts about Bobo are what I learned from him; I call it the "Terrier Mentality". In short, never, ever, ever, EVER give up. He lived life as if every day was his last. I respect that. He did nothing half-assed. 101% or asleep on the couch. Bye, Bobo!
