One day though, Leben overheard me talking in my kitchen to contractors who were doing work on my house.  They had done work for me on another home and had grown very fond of Leben.  Leben had grown to like them very much too, and once again, chose to lay and sleep next to the boss as he knelt on the floor laying ceramic tile for days.  Now, the men said they were done and were going to leave, but I disagreed with them and showed them work still left to do.  I did not even raise my voice, but all of a sudden, Leben, who had been snoozing on the deck behind a closed screened door, let out a ferocious growl and showed his teeth to the men.  He apparently had heard my voice change to one of dismay which motivated him to sit up, peer in, and listen intensely to our conversation. The men froze in disbelief  seeing their best dog friend ever, acting this way!   I looked over at Leben with surprise myself, and then keenly smiled and added in confidence, "Ya, and if you try to leave, Leben and I will stand in the driveway and see to it that you don't!"   Hearing this, Leben immediately let out another fierce growl, baring his teeth for the longest time, separated only by a screen door.  Again, the men stood stunned!  We all were astonished that Leben so correctly interpreted my conversation to mean that they could not leave until the job was done and to my satisfaction.  The men immediately became quiet, put their heads down in guilt, and resumed work.  Leben was 10 years old and crippled with arthritis, but he was so honored by these men, it only took his growl to shame them and remind them of their promise to me. Leben remained on the deck, not making another sound, and resumed snoozing and basking in the sun like a lion.  The next day, the men came back to finish the job.  Leben greeted them happily and allowed them to work as if nothing had happened the day before.  My love for Leben leaped beyond measure after those two days. 

     I  did teach Leben to chase the mean cats away that came in the yard to beat up "Onyx," his cat.  I  think Leben would have gone through a plate glass window if he heard Onxy in distress.  In fact, just one cry out of her would send him into a complete panic. He would frantically pace the floor, whimper and howl until he was let out to save to her.  Leben befriended a wonderful little stray calico kitty too that we named "Butterball."  She would sleep close to his chest outside on the porch when it was real cold.  He was truly "The Good Shepherd." 

     Leben was also in charge of scaring away the crows, blue jays, and at times the squirrels from the bird feeders so that the gentle songbirds could get a chance to eat and survive on this planet.  At first, small flocks of  blue jays and crows would aggressively zoom in like fighter jets screaming out their calls to scare the meek cardinals and tiny songbirds away. These bullish birds would bump off  any remaining braver songbirds from the feeder and then hog it all day. It didn't take long before Leben learned of my dissatisfaction with these predator birds and their tactics, and to discern their distinct screeching calls from the other birds.  Whenever they flew overhead to claim the feeder, Leben would race out ferociously, circle the feeder, and scare them all far away.  The songbirds would fly away too, but just to a nearby tree, and then watch with glee as Leben did his thing!  After the sky was clear and Leben was back on his deck relaxing, the songbirds would return to eat in peace and sing their melodious notes.  At night Leben would keep an ear open by the door in case the night bandits, the raccoons, would try to rob the feeders too.

     When I drove to Oregon and then back to Michigan, Leben was in the car protecting me through desolate stretches of the plains and deserts and dangerous areas in the cities or rest areas.  If a suspicious car started to follow me, I would call to Leben in the back and ask him to sit up or just raise his head to show his great big ears, and then I was not bothered with.  I would never have gone without him.