Pax is the bemused elder, a Rottweiler mix almost twelve years old.  The other three dogs are approximately five.  He is the dad of two of our dogs and Mom is our golden retriever.  He kind of looks at me with this odd look almost cockeyed.  He is the only one left from the three dogs we had when I entered this marriage nine years ago.  He no longer moves too quickly on his arthritic legs.  I have stepped on him too often although he has never bitten me for doing this.  He is now cautious when I walk nearby.  My nickname for him is “Woof”:  he is the most vocal of our four dogs.  He does his business in the yard quickly and indicate to us very (???) with a quick bark or two that he wants in the house.  He likes to run in the far right corner of our yard and barks at anyone who has the temerity to pass by.  He is one intimidating dog but he really is a sweetheart.  He is the only dog who is really my wife’s although he does listen to me.  He is the one dog I really do not want to get out:  he is plain scary looking.  He weighs about ninety pounds.