“Hey Steve! Come outside with me for a second. I have something very important to show you,” Pia declared with urgency.

And the obedient husband dropped what he was doing and proceeded to join her on the backyard deck.

I had no idea what I was about to learn. But we’ve been together for so long that I could tell by the tone of her voice it would not be one of my finer moments.

She took me by the hand and led me across the deck, down its steps, and onto the backyard grass. She then placed one hand on her hip, gestured off in the distance with the other, and asked: “So can you please explain how THAT happened??”

I looked over to where she was pointing and for a brief moment, seriously thought I was in a dream. There was Lucy. Still within our fenced yard, but on the other side of a makeshift garden fence sectioning off one corner of the yard. We all thought was way too high for her to jump.

How did she get over there??

Impossible, was my first thought. How did she get over there?

You see, different types of fences have gone up to protect a certain corner of the yard. This corner contains flowers and other items that Lucy likes to…ahem…let’s say “adjust.”. And this also happens to be her “bully corner,” from which point she barks ferociously at passers by on the lake.

Sometimes Bear throws in a few barks, too. Just as a show of support. But usually it’s just Lucy.

Bear just had to poke fun

Anyway, the first fence was ridiculously too small and Lucy jumped it with ease. But Pia, coming from a rich culture of engineers with a long history of building impenetrable walls, was not to be outdone. One day, she silently but efficiently erected this new fence that I thought impossible for Lucy to jump. In fact, I was so sure of it I considered the problem solved.

Even Bear the stunt jumper never went over this one.

But I forgot one key detail. If Lucy decides she wants something badly enough, she finds a way to get it. So here she was, looking back at us from the other side of this fence. She alternated her gaze from one to the other.

Pia began to walk back into the house, adding: “Okay you figure out how to get your girl out of there.”

Once we were alone I asked Lucy, “How did you get in there? How???”

No answer. But she looked proud of herself. And I have to admit, I was proud of her, too. But how am I going to get her out? Well how hard can it be? She must have jumped it once to get over there, so I’ll just invite her to jump back to me.

Oh no. It’s never that simple.

“Come, Lucy,” I beckoned as I patted my chest and the ground. “Come back to me! Jump, good girl. Jump!”

But she didn’t jump. At one point I could see she was considering it. But no thanks. That’s much too high for me. And besides, what fun would it be to jump when you tell me to jump? Leos don’t roll like that.

I tried a few more times, but to no avail. Lucy stared hard into my eyes for a moment. I knew she was trying to tell me something. And then it hit me. She wants to go under, not over, the fence. So I lifted up the soft bottom and she crawled right under. Her big Leo patootie hit the fence hard on the way out, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Crazy Lucy. They haven’t built a fence or wall yet that can hold a Leo who is determined to escape. Fortunately for us, she only likes to escape to that corner of the yard. Remind me not to plant any Rocky Mountain Columbines (the beautiful Colorado state flower) there anytime soon.

Lucy considers the way out

I didn’t mean to crash like I did. It was a Saturday afternoon, and Pia said I looked beat. Then ordered me to my room. I complied but figured I’d just hang out for a few minutes and rejoin her somewhere later. I was sure I wouldn’t fall asleep.

But that’s not how it went. Last thing I remember was lying down, looking up at the ceiling. Then the room went dark. And I was gone.

Sometime later, I awoke to the sensation of Lucy licking as much salt off my arm as possible. A few minutes more and I believe some skin would go, too. So I rolled over. But that didn’t stop her. She just hit me from a new angle.

I was too tired to react. And there are a lot worse things than being kissed by a Leonberger. So I just endured it. Then promptly lost track of how long it went on. Next thing I knew, Lucy hopped up onto the bed and crashed down into sleeping position right next to me.

I was vaguely aware of Bear, circling like a slick rescue shark, on the floor below. But for whatever reason, he decided not to hop up. I also remember wondering why, since he’s such a great jumper, does he never seem to want to jump up on the bead??

But I didn’t wonder for very long.

Because again…I drifted off…

Back to semi-consciousness sometime later, I was curious if Lucy was still with me. Too lazy to open my eyes, I swept one leg the length of the bed to do a reconnaissance check. And hit something. What I hit was definitely Leo behind. Yep. Anyone who owns a Leo can vouch for the fact that when one of your limbs strikes Leonberger patootie, you know it.

You absolutely know it.

So she’s still there, I thought to myself. How sweet…

Why not just inch a little closer to her? Okay. So I moved just a little closer to her. Then slung one arm around Lucinda.

Then drifted off again…

Sleeping with a Lion named Lucinda

Sometime later (I have no idea how long), I sensed a presence. A human presence. You know. That feeling like you’re being watched. I opened one eye just in time to see my daughter holding her iPhone up to snap a picture of the sleeping human and lion. She sees me look at her, giggles and asks: “How did you know I was standing here?”

I wanted to make a smart comment, like your odor preceded you. But since that isn’t even true, I didn’t. But the reaction would have been priceless.

As I slowly got up, I noticed how nicely Lucy’s fur ruffles when the rotating fan hits her. She has these trails of fur running the length of each paw. These, along with her extra ear fur, shift and dance with each blast of the fan. She literally looked like a sleeping lion, King of the Littleton Jungle.

“We can’t sleep our lives away, Lucy,” I told her as I stood up. She immediately pounced off the bed and onto the floor (landing with a thud) to join me for the walk downstairs. Bear materialized out of nowhere and was walking in lockstep with Lucy now. I still have no idea where he was the whole time.

And I don’t know how he does it, but Bear creeps silently around the house. Other than during extremely rare thunderstorms, we don’t always know exactly where he is at any given moment. But he’s never far.

So I learned a few life lessons today:

1. Sometimes you’re tired and don’t even know it.

2. When your spouse says you look like a train wreck, just go lie down.

3. If a Leonberger licks your arm, just relax and go with it.

4. If you think a slick Australian Shepherd/Rottweiler mix rescue dog has left the room, think again. He ain’t gone far.

5. If you feel like you’re being watched, you probably are. Quick! Open your eyes!

6. Leonberger patootie has a distinct feeling when brushed against by foot.

7. You really CAN sleep with a lion and survive.

Thanks, Lucy. Thanks for another round of Leo Life Lessons. : )

Or falling popcorn. Or airport fries (aka: APFs). Some of you may remember way back when we were trying to get Lucy to catch food in her mouth. But she just wouldn’t do it. Pia held the popcorn high in the air, let it fall, and Lucy would take it right on the nose. And watch it bounce onto the floor, at which point the Luce would deign to pick it up in her mouth and crunch it. Crunch it in the most charming way, like only a Leo can do.

Since that time, we’ve tried again and again. Switched the treat. Large, small, dog treats, airport fries, string cheese.Tried to time it just right. Give her plenty of notice.

“Here, Lucy. Catch this. Watch me. Watch me,” you’d often hear in the house…followed by “Awwwww c’mon. Seriously, Lucy?”

It just didn’t matter. Lucinda almost seemed to enjoy letting food hit her svelte, black nose prior to landing on the floor. Maybe it was her way of testing the weight & balance of said treats. At any rate, rather than keep pelting her with food, we eventually just gave up.

Now Bear, on the other hand, seems to owe his survival (in part) to being able to leap through the air and capture food in his mouth. Yes, all in a single bound. He was able to catch even the most difficult tosses from day one. Believe me, once we saw he could do it, we tried to challenge him. But he is just too good. Almost never missed a shot.

In fact, if you sat him down at a table in a Sakura Japanese sushi bar, and the chef did that toss-the-food-into-the-patron’s-mouth trick, Bear would leave the rest of the table quite hungry. In short, he’d never miss.

I also think he’d also make a quite charming little fellow sitting there, with a big & bright white napkin tied in front of him. Catching food in his fast-moving canine mouth.

Okay so here comes the twist. Ready for this?

Lucy now catches food in her mouth. Every time.

I tossed her six APFs in a row yesterday. She never missed. I was alternating between her and Bear and of course, he never missed either. As they both sat together, looking ready for the next toss, it hit me. Bear taught Lucy how to do this.

Bear and Lucy. Catching APFs

Oh I don’t mean they conducted a formal food-catching seminar while no one else was home (although I would LOVE to be a fly on the wall for that). But perhaps by imitation. Lucy’s been watching Bear closely, as he does her. Lucy’s taught Bear some important things, like how to play and relax. And now I see Bear’s teaching Lucy valuable survival skills. Like how to catch flying food so you can live long enough to jump into a stranger’s car and get jetted off to safety. Just in case you might need that some day.

My silly puppy and my brave Bear. Two best friends and a great team.

Lucy nudged me awake this morning with her big Leo nose. Once I was fully conscious, she asked if we could drive to Ohio today so she could visit with her mother, Melody. Seriously Lucy? What kind of request is that, and why all of a sudden?

Then it hit me. It’s Mothers Day. What a thoughtful and silly puppy.

I told her it wasn’t possible to drive all that way today. We probably wouldn’t even make it if we started right now.

“But we could stay at that pet friendly hotel in Omaha, Nebraska, like we did on the way here. You know, that place where they gave me a nice bag of treats at check in,” she protested.

Yes, Lucy. I know the place. But it won’t work.

The next best thing, I suggested, would be to post a wish and a few photos of Lucy’s mom here on her blog.

Lucy agreed.

And so here is the beautiful Melody. I remember meeting her when we picked up Lucy and she is the sweetest Leonberger you’ll ever meet. Just like her daughter.

Happy Mothers Day from one of your many amazing puppies, Melody!

With Love,

Lucy the Leo

Melody

Melody

Lucy is comatose at 5:00 am. Dead tired. And some mornings, I’m up at that hour to get ready for the day. And some mornings, I’m not. But what always impresses me is when Lucy wakes from her deep sleep just to come join me while I’m getting ready. I go off to a nearby room and try to keep things dark and quiet. Just enough light to see.

Enter the Magnificent Lucinda.

The Angelic Lucinda

Wobbly on her feet, half asleep, with that sleepy discharge around her eyes, here she comes. Tail wagging as she moves forward and lowers her head in anticipation of the hug she knows is coming. Lucy is not a “hugger” per se. That’s Bear’s department. He’ll let you hug him all day if you want to. Lucy’s more independent. I have to earn the right to hold her close.

Or just catch her in the morning.

Next, we have a hushed whisper conversation, lest the whole house awaken. “Hey pretty girl. Did you come to see me off? Aren’t you such a nice girl. Look at your big, floppy ears.” Then she’ll freeze in place with head down as I give her an ear massage.

And I always wonder to myself if she notices that my voice is a whisper. Does she think something’s wrong with me that I can’t talk correctly? Since dogs have no concept of barking silently, I imagine she either thinks I’m strange or simply doesn’t notice at all. Chalk that up as one more question to ask her on the other side of the bridge…

Where were we…oh yeah, our quiet time together in the morning. So next, I clear her eyes of the sleep stuff that’s formed. “Lucy,” I whisper again. “Leo’s can’t have stuff like this on their beautiful black masks! Here, let me clean it off.” Then I grab a tissue and clear the corners of her eye. She has come to expect this ritual, and sits perfectly still while I go to work. Barely even blinks.

How I love the trust we’ve built together.

So where is Bear in all of this? Federal prison, of course! [I kid, Floridians. I kid.]

But seriously, up until about a week ago, Bear always spent the night next to us in his evening crate. Which used to be Lucy’s crate. That is, until I was able to liberate her.

But a week ago, something funny happened with Bear. The spring rains came, bringing thunder and lightning with them. And while Lucy always sleeps peacefully through all of this, Bear decided he did not like them at all. In fact, he was terrified. If we get hit with storms during the day, he either hides out in the basement or Pia’s shoe closet. At night, he cries to come out of his cage.

Bear Hiding in Shoe Closet

Poor guy. After being imprisoned at the kill shelter in Florida for so many days and nights, he’s probably had it up to here with lightning, thunder, and rain. Remember, he was outside at that shelter the entire time, since they had no room inside. So he bore the brunt of those storms, getting pounded by the elements. Whatever mother nature threw at him, he had to take it. There was no pack, no one there to take him inside or tell him everything was okay. And I guess it all shook him up.

So after some discussion, we decided to let him sleep outside the cage. Certain house areas are blocked off but for the most part, he’s free to wander. And now he’s quiet. Still hides out in the basement and closet when the day storms come. But he’s nice and quiet at night. Sleeps near Lucy. And if sleeping next to a huge, confident, intelligent, witty, humorous, stunning, majestic, and regal Leo doesn’t calm you down, nothing ever could.

So where does this leave Lucy and me in those early morning hours just before I leave the house? With another visitor, of course. Now Bear jumps into the mix. If I pet Lucy, he runs over to make sure he gets his contact as well. Funny…the opposite is never true.

Psst…good morning, Bear.

So now I whisper to both of them at 5:30 am. The both like our little pre-dawn meeting, I think. And Bear has even learned some clever moves. Like he’s able to slip right under Lucy’s legs to get to me while I’m massaging her ears. She’s tall enough and he short enough that it’s a seamless maneuver.

Another move he’s perfected is timing his front paws to land on Lucy’s back while she’s still moving. He’s smart and has figured out that he can literally get a free ride if he times it just right. It looks like he’s jumping on the Leonberger Bus, riding along as she moves. He’ll glide a few feet before having to jump off. And Lucy never even seems to notice what he just did.

Bear’s liberation from the night cage adds a new twist to the morning ritual. But really, it’s just another day in the life of a house full of unique canines.