Character Analysis
If Hagrid from Harry Potter were a dog, he'd be Caesar. Roughly the size of a small dinosaur, Caesar, a Great Dane,
[…] stood forty-one inches at the front shoulder…and when he got up on his back legs and put his feet on my shoulders, he could drop spit…on stop of my bald spot. (6.6)
We're talking a whole lotta dog.
Caesar came to Paulsen via his previous owner, a man who was moving to Hawaii. His chapter almost reads like a tall tale, with Paulsen writing in an exaggerated tone to emphasize the dog's size. (We assume that getting licked by him wasn't actually like "sticking your head in a car wash" [6.47].) While Caesar didn't save Paulsen's life (like Snowball and Cookie) or offer any particular life lessons (like Josh and Rex), he was clearly a lot of fun, and a constant source of comic relief.
A Secret Softie
Caesar's entire life was a physical comedy, with him knocking stuff (and people) over at every turn. He was, however, a gentle giant at heart. When his original owner left him with Paulsen, Caesar went on a hunger strike, too miserable to eat, staring sadly at the front door for six days. Eventually, he got over it, consuming a whole chicken, a beef sandwich, half a pie, and two bowls of dog food.
(Sounds pretty good, tbh. Well, except for the dog food.)
Though Caesar was bigger than some fully-grown adults, he was afraid of children in costumes. Every year at Halloween, when the first trick-or-treater rang the doorbell, "Caesar went into the bedroom closet, pulled a housecoat over his eyes and would not come out until it was over" (6.64). What a scaredy cat.
Gentle Giant
Caesar's other defining characteristic was his love of hot dogs (with mustard and relish, of course). He ate them violently, "like a gator," according to Paulsen. "You had to throw it in or he would get your whole hand in his mouth, up to the elbow," he says (6.48). That's surely another exaggeration, but you get the idea.
The huge beast could also be super gentle when the situation called for it. One time, at a family picnic, Paulsen watched in horror as a little girl tried to feed him a hot dog. Much to his surprise, Caesar, "with the gentleness of a baby lamb, reached delicately forward and took the hot dog from the girl" (6.53). Soon he was surrounded by children who wanted to feed him more hot dogs. A gentle giant through and through. That's how Paulsen likes to remember him—among an adoring crowd, making new friends.