Bob was born in the wretched streets of the south Bronx, New York. Orlando an Rita married in the dump of a city and had to run drugs for the Some Dominican gangs. Orlando was strong and fleet and the gangs made a lot of money off his strength and speed.
Rita would scrounge work as a rat catcher for several tenement buildings. It was nasty work, but she did it to keep her family alive.
One day Orlando was mugged by a pit bull and had his supply of coke stolen, something the gang would not take lightly. They ordered Orlando to replace the drugs or die.
Orland knew it was time to move on a more peaceful area where his family could grow and prosper.They headed southwest eventually reaching Oklahoma. At a crossroad of two two-lane highways. not knowing which way to go, Bob spoke up in English and said, “I think we should head south. I believe there are more farms in that direction where we could find work.”
The family stood there, mouths agape. Finally, Orlando spoke (in dog)