Bobby

Joan and Bobby

The Bobby of Yosemite Story
by Joan McDowell

It was during The Great Depression, about 1935. We thought our Bobby might be an Australian Sheep-Dog, Border Collie, Collie Mix---much like the heroic "Bobbie the Wonder Dog of Oregon" that you may have read about on the web. Our Bobby was smaller but he also had the bobbed tail---hence the name. Our Bobby had a face and white bib and body-coloring like a classic Collie. What he had that we loved most was LOVE and sweetness in abundance. Mother, Daddy, and I were living at the time in a beautiful place called Camp Mather, in The High Sierras about 75 miles north of Yosemite. One day, while Daddy was exploring the woods nearby our cabin, his eyes fell upon a small dog huddled and crouching against a tree. He brought the emaciated, shivering creature home. We almost immediately knew what we would call him and that he would be ours. It took awhile before Bobby knew that he was home---or before he probably even knew what a "home" was. Whenever we reached out to pet him, he would cower. When Mother swept the floor with a broom, he would duck under the bed. It didn't take long for Bobby to reveal his capacity for love and to know that we were all his. Bobby didn't have a heroic story to tell. Unless just surviving intact, under frightful circumstances, with all his sweetness in reserve and waiting to be expressed, is heroic. I surely think that it is. What we loved most about Bobby was the joy he came to express at being with people who loved and cared for him, and how he would do what he could to keep us in good spirits. One day, I remember, I was extremely disappointed that I couldn't go horseback riding with my friends. Money was scarce and the cost was 50 cents an hour---prohibitive for us on this particular day. I went out to the wooded area to sulk. I was close enough to hear my Daddy ask Bobby to "Go find Joan." Bobby came right to my "hiding place," wagging his stubby tail and snuggling up. I soon regretted my pouty petulance and returned home to hug my dad. Bobby was always there when I needed him. He was my hero.