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MY DOG BOB
by Jody Correro
[Editor's Note: "Seemed like everybody in my small southern town knew my dog Bob," writes Jody Correro. "Willie Morris ain't got nothing on me when it comes to telling about my dog." And he's so right. Ye Editor literally laughed and cried reading this one. If you ever had a dog you loved more than life itself, you'll adore this story.]My oldest brother Phil brought him home one day after finding him and the rest of the litter in a paper sack on a ditch bank west of our little town. Phil and long-time pal, Henry Elliott, had been hunting that day when they found "Bob."
Bob was a mixed breed. Looked like he was part lab, judging by the shape of his head, and something else.
This was in the fall of 1950. I was only 4 at the time and don't recall much of Bob's early days. But he grew quickly and was just like one of Mama's other six chilluns. I had 3 sisters--Pat, Pam and Dot, the afore mentioned older brother Phil, and a younger brother, Quinn.
Mama pretty much knew where we were when she looked out the kitchen window facing (east) across South 2nd Avenue which was the western boundary of Fireman's Park. She would see Bob's white-tipped tail among all the neighborhood kids who flocked to the wading pool or the recreation center which Miz Effie Brown (Lloyd, Helen and Audrey's mama) ran so efficiently.
Bob soon became a fixture in the area. He guarded the Correro children as if they were his own. He followed one of us wherever we went. As a puppy, when school was in session, Bob would go to Pearman School and attend classes with Pam (who was in Mrs. Redden's 5th grade class) or Jody (in Mrs. Meade Turner's 3rd grade class) or Dot in (Mrs. Walt's 1st grade class).
Bob was also quite an aggressive mongrel when it came to other dogs. He ruled the neighborhood and was king of all dogs. He fought (to death) the collie owned by Mary Street, Mert and Tommy Toler. We all hated that and Bob had to be quarantined for that.
When the summer program was in full swing at Fireman's Park, Bob joined in with the rest of the kids. He was there for the ceremonial opening, signaled by the raising of the flag at the "Monument," and concluded with the Pledge of Allegiance. Bob's tail appeared to be at attention when we recited the Pledge.
He also liked the sand pile which was built around a large persimmon tree. Before park officials "fenced" Bob out for digging down to the cool dirt so he could cool himself off, he enjoyed that site. Another of his favorite "cooling off" things to do was joining the smaller children in the wading pool. Bad thing about that though, he had been in the dirt and sand, and when Bob sat down in the water, all the accumulated soil came out in the pool. This called for another fence to be built. This one around the wading pool kept Bob and other "hot dogs" out during the summer months. There is still a fence around the pool today, some 45 years later.
Bob was a religious dog, true to his Catholic up-bringing. Most of the Correro children went to "early Mass" at 7 a.m. on Sunday at Our Lady of Victories Catholic Church when it was located on South Court Street. Bob attended, too. He made himself right comfortable when he was there. If it was hot, he would come inside--the doors were open since the church was not air-conditioned--and lie down on the cool linoleum tile. If cold, Bob came inside and reclined by the forced air gas heater in the rear of the sanctuary. If the older kids went to "second Mass" at 10 a.m., Bob came back, too.
One time in September, 1959, there was a terrific rainstorm. The streets were all under water and there was water in the Kossman home at the corner of Second and Maple, as usual. Well, Jimmy Rocconi, the first (I can recall) owner of Airport Grocery, came by our house in a boat and took my Daddy, Pam, Dot and me to Mass. Daddy, God rest his soul, frowned on our missing Mass for any reason.
Bob couldn't get in the boat, so he swam along beside us to the Church, some 2 1/2 blocks away. Bob joined me--I was the altar server that day--in the vestibule off the main altar. Shortly after Mass began, Bob walked out into the main sanctuary, climbed to the top step leading to the altar and shook himself off. Father Paul Canonici was saying Mass and wore white vestments. They were brown-splotched after Bob tried to dry himself off. Father turned to look at what had happened, but continued to say Mass.
Bob went to the Ellis, Regent and Joy Theatres with one of us. If he could get inside where it was cool, he did so. Just about everyone in Cleveland knew him. He once stopped a Delta State football game when the stadium was located on Sunflower Road. The Statesmen were playing the University of Tennessee Martin Branch when Bob decided to check out the visitors' huddle. The officials finally got him off the field and the game resumed.
By the time he was 8 years old, Bob had just about learned how to play golf. He followed me many a day for a round on the links.
As he grew older, Bob didn't follow us as much. By 1957, my sister Pat had married, and in April 1959, my brother Phil was married and in the Marines. Bob made both of the weddings which were held at OLV. I remember the day Bob died. I was a freshman at Delta State and Bob was 14 then. He had survived being hit by cars on 3 occasions, but he couldn't overcome the diseases that strike dogs and humans . . . kidney failure, pneumonia, etc.
I had put a blanket down in front of a gas wall heater. Bob's breathing had become labored. I am sure I was selfish, but I didn't want to have him put to sleep. I was studying at the dining room table and hadn't noticed Bob across the room on the floor. I glanced over at him. He wasn't breathing. I went over, picked him up, and took him outside. I wrapped him in the plastic that came from the dry cleaners and buried him under the plum tree in the very back of our yard.
I cried and cried. My Mama and Daddy cried, and so did Pam, Dot and Quinn. Our neighbors mourned Bob's passing, too. My brother, Phil, and sister, Pat, sent their condolences, too. Father (Patrick Joseph) Hannely published Bob Correro's obituary in the following Sunday's church bulletin.
I still have a black and white picture (taken by our then-next door neighbor, George Hancock) of Bob. I still miss him when I think of him. I know he's all right because I know all dogs go to Heaven.
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Want to leave COMMENTS about this memoir? We'd love to hear from you. Just click here, and please tell the editor your comments are for BOB. Thanks.
Jody Correro is a long-time journalist and staffer at Delta State University. He lives in Cleveland, Mississippi.
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COMMENTS:
From: Suzanne Alford Hodges
Jody, Sandra Grissom just told me about Beth's website. Loved your dog story. You're right, Willie Morris's Skip doesn't have anything on Bob.
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From: Jackie Sawyer of Nashville, Tennessee
Message: I remember Bob quite well. I lived east of Fireman's Park and would walk over there for neighborhood football games which Bob would join. Our dogs knew who was boss and just watched.
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From: Holly
Message: Jody, I think I can recall this dog . . . We have all had good dog friends. Thanks for the good times.
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From: Lee Lewis
Message: I remember Bob and his entire family fondly. Some dogs are simply more valuable than many humans, and Bob was such a dog.
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From: Gin Hill Ables of Wills Point, Texas
Message: Wow, Jody! Thanks for the memories. I had forgotten all about Bob! Loved your story. Love this website.
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From: Dot Correro Sylvester of Panama City, FL
Message: I am Jody's sister Dot . . . had forgotten or was just too young to remember some of the episodes in Jody's story, but I do remember a lot of them. Jody, I am glad you wrote about Bob, and I hope I can find my picture of him--we all had copies at one time. Bob, indeed, was a one-of-a-kind "dog." I will never forget him, and neither will a lot of people we grew up with in Cleveland. I still tell people here in PC about him, especially my friends at church and about what a good Catholic Bob was! I'm sure he's in Heaven--no doubt about it--he always went to Confession with us on Saturdays--remember?! Thanks, Jody. I knew you should be submitting memoirs to this wonderful website!
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From: Marjorie Henry Orr of Clarksdale, MS
Message: I loved reading your article. How well I remember going to mass and Bob sitting at the door of the church. I told someone about him coming to church every Sunday the other day.
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