Sometimes Bob could not get up alone, then father would lift him up and
rub his neck where the collar had worn it sore on his long pulls. He
would lick father's hand and look into his face so pitiful it made us
all feel sorry to see him suffer. Very soon Bob began not to notice his
master very much, but would try to go fast to meet father when he came
into the house, and when he could not get up father would go to him,
talk and rub him. The dog seemed to understand the kindness. When
grandpa saw Bob cared more for father than for himself he cried like a
little child. After awhile he said, "No wonder Bob love you, you so good
to him, you so good to me, me love you too. Me now give you Bob. You
keep Bob for yourself till he die." Then the tears fell fast for a time.
After that Bob seemed to know he had a new master and seemed content.
With care Bob improved and got about so much smarter. Father had to be
away all day to his work. At night when he came home Charley, Bob and I
were always at the door to meet him. Sometimes in the winter evenings
when grandpa would be telling us his stories and singing to us his songs
Charley and I would fall fast asleep curled up on the rug with Bob.