(Foreword:  Yes, I know.  It has been a long time since I have written about his majessty, but trust me, the big white dog has lost none of his royal attributes. If anything, these couple of years have refined his behavior into an exquisite hard headedness!

With that, I give you a glimpse once again into the privileged world of…Lewis the Dog.

I have to state from the beginning that the title of this episode is not original to me.  It is in fact the name of a pet supply company.  The company attorneys , if I had such a thing, state that this is not an endorsement of any of their products. But I sure do like their title!

The concept is true on mamy levels.  It certainly describes the dog owner’s feelings.  Due to the wonders of electronic media, I frequently encounter the antics of other Great Pyrenes owners begging/pleading/threatening/scolding/rewarding their gentle beasts to do…..anything. All actions accompanied by the word, please.

On the other hand, the big guy possesses an uncanny sense of acting like a human.  We humans, however, have been unable to harness that reciprocal semi-human dogness.  For instance, we try to convince him that the water out on the porch is in fact the same brand and vintage as the water in his bowl in the kitchen.  But nooo, he has to kick the door open to get to this outside water (for all of the tea cup dog owners, you are missing out on a 150-lb dog’s ability to kick open doors to go wherever he desires.)

And another thing, one of the good things about any dog really, is their capability (more or less) as a watchdog, especiaally at night. But nooo, not his highness.  As we lowly humans retire for the night, he settles down on the oppossite end of the house.  I’m positive I can hear him utter “You’re on you own tubby.  Try not to wake me up uunless it’s absolutely necessary.”

And finally, (dang him) he loves and hugs like a human.  In addition to eating and sleeping, he livess for us to pay attention to him, i.e., petting.  He will sit beside us in the evenings waitiing for his 2-3 hour rub down.

So yes, we’ll keep him, or rather he’ll continue as our owner, yes that’s right, our owner. That means we have more time to figure out if he is more dog or more human.  One thing has crossed my mind though – what if he really is smarter than we are…

I have to admit it’s almost been impossible to convince Lewis to write something for his blog.  I think he just got lazy during the fall, especially because of his surgery, but more about that later. Part of the problem might be his reverse inclination to the weather. Most people and animals want to get out of the harsh weather.  Lewis on the other hand was bred for such adventures. Great Pyrenes, especially when mixed with a St. Bernard, which is Lewis’ noble lineage (ha) – – seemingly would rather spend their time outside.  Well, most of the time.  I did use the word seemingly just now. But when the temperature starts flirting with 100 degrees, the big fellow swallows his heritage and has no qualms about enjoying the fruits of Mr. Carrier’s labors.

Lewis is BIG (no pun intended) on being comfortable, which made this last fall particularly difficult. Lewis had to have surgery, and not just any surgery.  Somewhere along the way, Lewis had torn his ACL.  No one knows how or when, but I prefer to think it was the jet sweep right on third down.  In any event, it was a fairly long procedure and head-banging expensive.  You could rescue 20 Lewises for the cost of that medical excursion.  Of course, most of that difference would be made up in just a couple of weeks in dog food.  The worst part was that &^%$ cone he had to wear until his leg healed.  It’s the only time before or since that I have ever heard my giant friend whimper.  It killed me, and it still echoes in my head even now.  I’m happy to report, however, that Lewis is back to his former self…and ways.  His futile high-speed pursuits terrorize chipmunks, frogs, lizards, or anything that dares enter his royal territory.  It’s like he is making a statement, “I’m still Lewis.”

I wish everyone could know him.  The way he bounces around like a 140-pound rabbit, cornering a nasty, muddy tennis ball, is quite hilarious; or the way he keeps a half-closed eye on the household so he doesn’t miss anything. 

But as the old saying goes, he doesn’t miss a trick.  And he wouldn’t, because he’s still Lewis.

Remember the story of Ivan Pavlov’s dog, and the experiment dealing with the bell and the dog’s reacting to the sound of the bell in relation to food?  Actually, Pavlov used approximately 40 dogs in his work – Rosa, Mirta, Norka, Trezor, Visgun, Jurka, Jack, John, to name a few.  Ivan, the Russian scientist is going to have to add one more name to his canine entourage, however. His name of course is Lewis.  He’s not Russian, but he is perfectly in tune with Pavlov’s experiment.  I should explain….

This is not as esoteric as it first sounds.  It’s just plain old dog sense. Pavlov was dealing with conditioned response and the ability to alter behavior. The experiment went something like this – anytime old Ivan would feed one of his dogs, he would ring a bell, time after time, dog food + the bell. Pretty soon he discovered that the dogs would salivate just by ringing the bell, no food needed.  I understand the rudiments of the experiment.  After all, place a big old filet mignon around me, and I will slobber all over you!

But this is not another “Lewis drools a lot” story – although heaven knows he does.  He actually dinged me during one of his Turner and Hooch head shakes the other day. From five feet away! I watched in horrified slow motion as the mega droplet arced over my desk and hit me in the leg.  But I digress.

Lewis’ favorite thing after food is being petted, and petted, and then finally…. petted some more.  His favorite “petting station” is a small patch of floor in the den between the chair and the couch.  I offer you Exhibit A below.

This is a daily occurrence, usually at night. Well, okay, more than that, a lot more.  Now it has almost become self-serve.  He walks in from his guard duties (ha!), walks to his spot between the couch and the chair, lies down, and waits for his back rub, or head scratch, just anything will do.  If you don’t respond quickly enough, you get that big bear paw across the arm of the chair.  If you should stop prior to his majesty’s desire, again out comes the paw.  This has been the norm for months if not years. 

Then something new happened.  I call it the Pavlovian Transition.  I first noticed it the other day.  Lewis walked in from outside and plopped down in his usual spot.  Uh oh!  No one was sitting in the chair nor anywhere within petting distance.  Not a problem for a dog trained in Pavlovian behavioral conditioning.  Despite no one being within six feet of him, Mr. Lewis reached up and pawed the magical chair arm then looked around for his requested petting.  Yes, he eventually got what he wanted (shocker, huh?), but it was definitely a Pavlovian moment.

Oh, not for him.  For me.  He rang the bell, and I jumped.

In our last episode, Lewis declared without compromise that he was NOT getting in the car for any reason – not no way, not no how, as the cowardly lion uttered in “The Wizard of Oz.”  These four-legged boys and girls are smart.  I know everyone thinks their dog is the smartest, but it’s just not so.  Sadly, some dogs are destined for the short leash for the duration.

Lewis isn’t one of those dogs.  He’s not an Einstein breed like the German Shepherd or Australian Shepherd, but he’s close, very close.  After enough visits to the vet, I’m sure most dogs can tell when a visit to the dog doc is pending.  Lewis goes a step further, however.

Getting Lewis back from the vet is a different and more enjoyable story. He jumps and bumps and is overjoyed at the prospect of going home.  And there is always the wow factor – those owners with the little rat dogs suddenly step aside and clear the way for the great white.

But then it starts.  Those human traits start to make themselves known.  Lewis exits the building and walks, nay, almost drags you to the car.  It’s funny at first until it starts to sink in, especially the part where he bounds up the ramp and into the car with no coaxing or coercing whatsoever.  It’s like watching Air Bud launch himself into the back of the car.  The kicker, however, is that once he’s in the car and assured that he is returning to home turf, he shuns us.  SHUNS!  If you aren’t familiar with this old concept, it involves physically turning away from the person you are facing in order to express indignation over some action.  Yep, that’s exactly what Lewis did.  Got pictures to prove it.

At first, I thought he just preferred looking out the back window, but other non-vet trips disproved that theory.  He won’t look or sit toward the front of the car – not no way, not no how!  That is until arrival at home means a guaranteed dog cookie.  Then it’s all is forgiven, let’s play!

They follow us around.  They sit in our laps (not Lewis, thank goodness).  They want to be around us, even when we’ve had a bad day.  But they don’t like being away from us (or dog cookies!).  So, I guess a little pouting can be forgiven.

I guess that’s Lewis’ way of saying, “Don’t let this be a habit….not no way, not no how!”

The 1951 movie starring Michael Rennie and Patricia Neal was a great, old movie.  It was science fiction with a purpose.  The story was good, but the title was even better.  Dealing with Lewis on a daily basis makes the title relevant on a daily basis.

A case in point…I occasionally enter a classic car in the annual World of Wheels show in Birmingham.  It requires a physical presence for approximately 10-12 hours a day for an entire weekend.  Problem: What to do with Lewis for those 12 hours each day.  Solution:  Place Lewis in doggie daycare at the vet’s office for the weekend. Check.  Problem: Get Lewis in to the car to ride to the vet’s office.  Solution:  Coax Lewis with his favorite dog treat. Check.  Anh (that’s a buzzer sound). No check.  So, it finally happened.

It was the day the earth stood still, or rather Lewis did.  He had the perfect set up, a big ramp to walk calmly up into the SUV, and off we go.  Anh.

So, what do you do when a 140-pound dog decides to lie down in the middle of the driveway and keeps making the buzzer go off.  Got a treat for you.  Anh.  Look Lewis, I’m in the front seat waiting on you to help me drive.  Anh.  Lewis, PLEASE get up and get in the car.  Anh.

I’ve been dreading this day for some time now.  How do you transport a big dog who insists on doing it his way (thank you, Frank Sinatra)?  My mind has wandered through the maze of options to get Lewis on board.  Forget doggie treats.  How about a full-blown meat entrée?  That sounds good, but I have to admit, that idea didn’t work on….the day the earth stood still.

What about a towel under his hind quarters?  That worked on a previous dog I owned.  Of course, that dog only weighed 80 pounds.

Then there is what I refer to as the nuclear option.  I have an engine hoist that I use for car repair and other heavy lifting of objects of great weight.  Last I looked, I’m pretty sure Lewis qualifies.    Swinging this dog around on a small crane, however, just ain’t right as we say here in the South.

I wish I could end this blog with a great success story, but alas, the only one with a success story here is Lewis.  He’s so large, he laid down, and the earth stood still. 

Of course, he did that to my world the very first time I saw him.

The only thing worse than trying to lose weight is trying to cajole your pet into shedding a few “ellbees.” (That’s short speak for lbs. for all you *&^% slender people out there). And that time had come. The vet started in with “the talk.” Let’s just say that Lewis was to the point that he was in danger of forcing the creation of a new blog, well, at least a new blog title. Gone with the pounds was “Life with a 140-lb. dog.”

When Lewis arrived here at his new home, he was a scant 60-lb. fur ball. Well, that status didn’t stay quo for very long. 60, 70, 80, 110, 125…. The numbers rolled by like dog treats on a platter (the actual occurrence of which probably contributed to his weight problem). Soon, we were looking down the barrel of 155 lbs., and the vet said, “Oh hell, no.” (She didn’t really. I just like that phrase for emphasis sake.) But the 155 lbs. were all too real. Big dogs (and Lewis “are” one) usually have hip problems because of their weight (been there done that). Lewis had already started to struggle just a bit getting up from wooden floors, so there was no more….weight….and see. The pounds had to go.

The pounds had to go, therefore, so did the scrambled eggs in the morning, the last bite of a sandwich at lunch, and that little piece of meat at dinner….and everything in between. Over the course of a couple of months, Lewis successfully saved the title of his blog! The big boy, okay, less big, got down to 140 pounds. He’s still on a semblance of a diet in order to preserve that svelte, fighting weight of his. Mind you, he doesn’t stand in front of the mirror and opine, “Oh, would you just look at those hips.” But he gets up more easily, and he runs to his dinner bowl a half-step faster.

He has inspired me to lose weight myself, so I made an appointment this week with the vet!

The day starts early at Lewis’ house.  3:00 am is the standard reveille (but without the bugle thank God).  But who needs a horn to announce the day when you have a self-actualizing, constantly moveable, 140-pound horn?  Ah, the joys of dog ownership.  There is no feeling in the world like hearing that throaty bellowing out in the yard at 4:00 in the morning and wondering when the police are going to knock on your door.  It hasn’t happened yet, but I will keep you apprised.  I wonder if they conduct line-ups for excessive dog complaints?

Considering all of that, it makes you wonder why this blog with such a title even exists.  But trust me, if you don’t have a dog, get one.  They have personalities that will amaze you, humor you, and yes, perplex you. 

They are quite perceptive, intelligent, sneaky, mischievous, loyal, innovative, and STUBBORN.  Well, Lewis is anyway.  I try to cut him a break and blame it on the fact that he is deaf, but truth be told, he’s just hard headed.  I think the breed standards refer to it as leadership and determination.  (dog people, go figure).

Non-dog people don’t know this, but dogs can talk.  Seriously.  It takes a while for owners to learn how to translate dog speak, but it’s there.  Trust me.  For instance, Lewis has an “I’m bored” bark. He has a “feed me” bark (this one is rather pronounced, and repetitive).  He has a “what’s that” bark, usually followed by his “oh, it’s just a leaf blowing across the yard, but hey it could have been something!” bark and his corollary “It really is something” bark.                                                                                                                                       

Finally, Lewis has his top of the line bark, the “Oh *&^%” bark.  It means there really is something out here, and you need to get up and come see this, because something serious is about to go down”…bark.  I’ve only heard it once since Lewis came to own this house.  It was a dark and stormy night, no wait that’s another story.  But it was dark, 4:00 in the morning dark.  Lewis was out on the deck, and it started, the bark that will send chills down your neck.  So naturally I jumped up and ran outside, and there it was, the sight that set Lewis on fire.  Standing in my back yard, not 20 feet away was a man in the woods behind the house with a flashlight!!!  I almost let out an “Oh &^%$” bark myself.    I yelled out to him in my scariest “Oh *&^% “ voice what he was doing in my backyard with a flashlight at 4:00 in the morning.  He said he was looking for his cat who had slipped out of the house.  I thought to myself, this is how cat people get shot.  He then pointed his flashlight up in the trees, and there sat his cat staring down at us.  I’m pretty sure I learned a new bark from Lewis at that moment, something along the lines of “See, I told you so.”

It was just a cat person, but it could have been a cat burglar or worse.  Thanks to Lewis, his ability to talk made the difference. 

So, if you don’t have a dog, get one.  Be careful about getting a cat though.  They could get you shot!

Since day one, I have realized that Lewis was a smart dog, a very smart dog.  He has to be smart to be as butt-headed as he is.  He can look at you with those owl-like eyes, and the message is quite clear – you’re not going to win. And it’s that keen intellect that has allowed him to collect a few pointers and impersonations from the animal world.  The stare-down tactic of an owl mentioned above is but a cursory example.  His repertoire is much greater and varied.

One of his most evident and oft-used imitations is the pig.  This one is easy and predictable.  Almost every domesticated animal knows this trick.  The only difference is the occasion of its performance.  Lewis hits all of the circuits – the RCA Victor dog pose with that pitiful expectation of help before he starves to death (by the way, I might have to change the title of this blog, since the last visit to the vet pegged the white fur generator at 150 pounds!), but I digress.  His other pig impersonations occur at or under the table, hoping for dropped food, or spreading prone from one side of the kitchen to the other, hoping that the chef on duty might have excess to toss his way (no fruits or vegetables, please).

And then there is the old firsthand, or rather first nose confirmation of the presence of food by what a good friend of mine calls “counter-surfing.”  Owners of small dogs might not be familiar with this concept whereby large, taller dogs stand on their back legs and peer over the countertop to see what they deem to be rightfully theirs.

Lewis is also very adept at mimicking a bull, specifically a charging bull.  If you’re gone for a while, upon return, he will run at almost full speed until he headbutts you while seeming to say, “Hi, I’m still here!” whereupon he reverts to one of his pig impersonations.

Finally, I witnessed a new trick by a not so old dog the other day.  He now can impersonate an elephant….in several ways.  He can prance and bounce along just like the old song, “The Baby Elephant Walk.”

https://video.search.yahoo.com/search/video?fr=mcafee&p=ELEPHANT+WALK+MUSIC#id=2&vid=b1f33ed8a2006208ebf67d1ad008e28f&action=view

But he exhibited a new elephant trick the other day when it was particularly hot, and he was home alone.  Don’t ask me why, but when he’s by himself, he insists on staying outside rather than inside with the air conditioning.  I credit such behavior to his guarding genetics.

As you approach the back door, he immediately shifts into his charging bull routine.  You can’t even get to the door to put the key in.  And on this particular day, his routine was no different.  He saw me, charged me, then blocked me from getting to the door, because he wants to get into the air conditioning first.

At this point, I have to pause to relate a relevant vignette.  I was watching one of the animal shows the other day about elephants.  A zoo was hoping to acclimate a young male elephant to an older, head of the herd bull.  They eventually succeeded, but the process involved what they termed as gentle but “message-sending” kicking.  The older elephant would walk up to the younger one, hike his back leg and kick the younger one just to send the message, “I’m the boss here.”

Yes, that’s right.  Lewis walked up between me and the door, raised his back leg, and KICKED ME!

The message was quite clear, “I’m the boss here.”

I’m going to assume that everyone by now has seen one of the greatest canine tear jerkers ever created.  Of course, I’m talking about the video, “God made a dog.”  If you have yet to experience this masterpiece, stop reading this and go immediately to this link,

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9wWHLdHroyQ

I’m sure every dog owner feels this way about their pet, but I would take license to attest that Lewis is different.  When God made that dog, he spent extra time and money.  He has a certain je ne sais quoi (that’s French for “helluva dog”).  Despite being deaf, he exhibits some pretty surprising attributes – some of which are on the good side of the ledger.  At other times, he can be a real pain in the….well, the den, kitchen, or wherever he happens to plop down that 140-lb. body.  And this is where Lewis reflects the essence of the video referenced earlier.  One of his favorite habits is to sit or lie next to your chair so you can pet him…FOR HOURS!

I used to think it was just another selfish habit on his part, but during one of these marathon petting sessions, I realized I could almost feel the stress roll down my arm, across his fur, and off his back.  Petting this creature probably does more for me than it does for him.  Yep, God made this dog.

I have to admit, I wake up every morning at an ungodly hour, anytime between 3-4 am.  Regardless of the time, Lewis, who sleeps in the kitchen (go figure), hops up and helps me start the day by…plopping belly up on the floor wanting to be petted, and brushed.  And brushed. And brushed.  He would lie there all day if he could, stopping only to eat (that kitchen theme again).  I think God made this dog.

By 5:00 am, he’s ready to play ball, literally.  I have to say though, for a less-than-svelte physique, he jumps and runs pretty well.  It’s a hoot to watch, because this four-year old still thinks he’s a puppy.  He runs a circuitous route, around the kitchen, out the door, across the deck, through the gate into the backyard, into the bushes, and back again.

Then comes my favorite game of the morning.  I call it bull in the ring after an old football drill.  He walks back into the kitchen and just stands there (not sure if the kitchen thing is his theme or mine, or both).  He stands there until he catches my eye.  Then he lowers his head and glares at me like a bull.  As soon as I crouch down, here he comes…like a bull.  His taurine impersonation doesn’t stop there.  He proceeds to ram me head on, then stands on my feet (ow) waiting for me, yes, to pet him.  God might have made this dog, but he’s got a touch of the devil in him!

Eccentricities we call such traits in humans, but this dog has taught me that pets have their peculiar personality traits as well.  A Labrador who would wrestle you in the floor, an Australian Shepherd who would put her paws over YOUR face during storms, and a Collie who didn’t take kindly to anyone disciplining the children.  I’ve had the distinct pleasure and great fortune to have shared life with all of them.  That’s the secret that pet owners know, that yes indeed, God made them all.

A sad footnote.  One of Lewis’ cousins crossed over the rainbow bridge this week.  Her name was Lily, a small Rat Terrier with a giant heart.  We will all miss her eccentricities.