LEONBERGER

If you don’t know what a Leonberger is don’t feel bad. I am rather long of tooth and had never heard of them either until I came across one while visiting my daughter. A Leonberger is a dog. To be more precise, as I later learned by Googleing the name, they are a mix of Newfoundland, St. Bernard and Great Pyrenees and a member of the Mastiff group. This lineage means they tend to be rather large, as in 130 pounds for a lady and 170 for a man dog.

My daughters and I were chatting when a girl walked by with 2 dogs on leashes. One was a something or other prancing along that could easily fit in a ladies purse, the other was a waist high dog with hair the length of a Collie and coloring similar to a German Shepherd, that we learned to be a Leonberger. He was the sort of dog that looks you in the eye and you are toast. A loveable, gentle giant. He and I bonded instantly as our eyes met. We listened to the girl tell us of what a great pet they are. She happened to be a nurse who often took him to the hospital as a therapy dog to visit very ill patients. The whole time we visited he stood next to me like we had been buddies forever. My daughter took a picture of us with her cell phone and we watched as they walked away.

The next day I get an e-mail with the picture and a plethora of information about Leonbergers. My daughters had decided that would be our next pet. Over the years my wife and I have had a number of pets, mostly dogs, with varying degrees of lovability. Mostly low. A Sheep dog who almost drowned in our pool, an Afghan hound who could have starred in the movie Cuckoo’s Nest and a mix who refused to stay in our yard and costs us hundreds of dollars of fines for being out without a leash. Then there was the topper of all, Nike the wolf that I recently blogged about.

The Nike experiment scarred my wife for life so the chances of us getting another dog were about the same as me beating Mike Tyson in a fist fight. Add to that built in bias the fact that since we did have dogs you now have to follow one around with a plastic mitt gizmo to clean up after them and forget it. As much as my kids can envision me in my lounge chair by the fireplace with my robe and slippers and a Leonberger at my feet, my marriage is worth too much for me to even broach the subject. But we sure did bond.