Pompey Varro is the sort of Cane Corso who is thoughtful, slow to speak, and absolutely the last word in any room. There is a small notebook Pompey Varro carries, half theories about the mushroom farms and half crumbs. Around the satellite flowers field, Pompey Varro is treated like a small weather system that mostly improves the day. Pompey Varro wants to be remembered as useful, loyal, and only mildly responsible for what happened near the cracked freeway loop.