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| Name: |
Léofa
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Age: |
Five years old
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| Gender: |
Male |
Breed: |
Papillon mix
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| Home: |
Fresno, California, USA |
In
February 2008, we got word of a male Papillon named Jumpin' Jack who
needed a home, who in fact had been through five homes already and was now
getting booted out of his sixth - a horse ranch, no less! - because he was
"too crazy." Well, we are fans of Cesar Millan, and know to project calm
assertive energy, so no dog is too much for us to handle! And besides, our
female Papillon, Callista, our only dog at the time, needed a companion. So,
with Callista, we went to adopt this mysterious, "crazy" Papillon.
As soon as his keeper opened the front door, out charged a dog - but this was
no Papillon! He had the giant ears and feathery tail, but he was twice the
size of a Papillon! And for the first fifteen minutes, we couldn't even see
his face: he jumped and dodged and ran back and forth like a mad dog, which
explained his name. But Callista took to him, and they scampered around the
ranch home recklessly, tirelessly, happy and excited, instant best friends.
When we finally saw his face, we learned why he was so big: he was obviously
a mixed-breed. We guessed Papillon and Sheltie, and thus he gained his first
new nickname: Shelty-Face. And though he stood twice the height and length of
Callista, he was still a gangly creature, and we eventually began calling him
the Lanky Wonk ("wonk" is a Chinese term for mutt). And because of his size,
we decided that his official breed would be Grand Papillon.
But he needed a proper new name. We name dogs and cats according to the
formula "given, special, botanical." The given usually a linguistic or
literary name, the special often a previous moniker, and the botanical a nod
to J.R.R. Tolkien's convention for Hobbit names. Callista's given name is
Greek for "beautiful," and her name before we adopted her was Valentine, so
she became Callista Valentine Lobelia. For Jumpin' Jack, we converted the
Jack to John and gave him the special middle name St.John (pronounced
SIN-jin), and for his botanical we chose Devadaru, the Sanskrit word for the
deodar cedar, which grows in our area and produces a pine cone that looks
like a rose blossom. Finally, for his given name, we drew from Tolkien and
chose Léofa, a king of Middle Earth and an Old English word meaning
"beloved." So Léofa St.John Devadaru took his place in our home. And when
LAY-oh-fah turned out to be too difficult for some people to pronounce, we
started mis-pronouncing it LEF-oh-wah sometimes for fun.
We must confess to another nickname for him: Stupid Dog. Okay, it's not nice,
we know. But it's not as if he's offended. And it's not just that he's not as
intelligent as the average Papillon (which he's not: Paps are smart). He's
just ... different. He's functional, he's not a basket case, but he's just
not right in the head. Maybe a horse once kicked him in the skull? He had
trouble learning to eat his dinner! Seriously, what dog has trouble learning
that the bowl in front of him is full of food, especially if he hasn't eaten
for the whole day, and his buddy Callista is wolfing down her own dinner
right next to him? He would just wander off, distracted by a cat or a shadow
or the neighbor's car door. (He eventually caught on, but it took months.)
His back feet usually stick out sideways, making for an awkward lope. He
utters the strangest sounds, including a long vocal sigh as he settles down
to sleep, as if letting go of half but not all of the weight of the world.
Sometimes, running in the back yard, he breaks into "gazelle mode" and
bounces along at super-speed like a springbok, all four legs at once. He
loves to "bake his face": sit right smack in front of a space-heater, just
inches from the glowing elements, until his whole head is almost too hot to
touch. When he sneezes, his entire body convulses from nose to tail, and he
is liable to smack his snout into the floor--this probably explains why one
of his front teeth went missing recently. When we take him out for bathroom
breaks, he engages in an unusual ritual that involves jumping up against a
wall or fence, then sticking his back end as high up against the fence as he
can. And when he wants to play (which is just about always), he strikes a
"surrender" pose, standing on his hind legs and throwing his forepaws up and
back as if somebody were pointing a gun at him. (We just haven't been able to
capture it yet on camera.) He's not surrendering, of course: he's getting
ready to pounce!
The sum of all these parts is a comic hound, unique, never aggressive,
endlessly entertaining, always endearing, always happy-go-lucky, always
simply good. He is an innocent soul, better than the world deserves. He took
not just a place in our house, but a place in our hearts. This is his seventh
home, and his last ... and we hope he'll be here for a long time.
See more images of Léofa!
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