This blog feature amusing and heartwarming stories about our late Leonberger dog Bronco, as well as other Leonbergers. It also has a lot of information about the Leonberger breed, the history, care, training, Leonberger organizations, etc. I also wrote a Leonberger book, which I am featuring in the sidebar.
When I was in second grade, I liked horror stories, and my favorite animal was the Murder Moose. The Murder Moose was a big Moose with big teeth, and it went around killing people in my village in northern Sweden where I lived. In school I wrote my first story about the Murder Moose, and I made a drawing. My story and my drawing are unfortunately lost but with the help of ChatGPT I made another drawing based on my memories from my childhood’s Murder Moose. I should say that at the time I knew nothing about Dinosaurs yet, otherwise my favorite animal might have been Dinosaurs.
The murder moose in my second grade story. The picture was generated by ChatGPT.
As an adult my perspective has changed. Now I love dogs. I have a dog, Rollo, and have owned many dogs, something that I never had a chance to do as a kid. I love dogs very much and I am especially fond of Leonberger dogs. I wrote a book about Leonbergers and our late Leonberger dog Bronco, or Le Bronco von der Löwenhöhle to be precise. The title of the book is “The Life and Times of Le Bronco von der Löwenhöhle, Stories and Tips from Thirteen Years with a Leonberger”.
On the left our Leonberger Bronco is three months old. On the right Bronco as an unusually old Leonberger at almost 13.Bronco our Leonberger is giving me a kiss. He is about one year old and not yet fully grown.Bronco’s direct ancestor on the male side Leo von der Sagmuhle in Germany about 100 years ago (18 generations). The Worldwide Independent Leonberger Database keeps track of all registered Leonbergers, making ancestry research for Leonberger dogs easy.Our Leonberger Bronco sitting in my wife’s lap. He was 167 pounds at the time.Hachi a one-year-old Canadian Leonberger with my Leonberger book. The owner and photographer are Brenda Saito and her husband.
However, the first dogs we had as a family was our Labrador Baylor and German Shepherd Baby. I should say that Baylor was not a purebred Labrador, he was one quarter Rhodesian Ridgeback.
Our Labrador Baylor and German Shepherd Baby. They were both rescues.
One of the reasons I love dogs is that they are very social and often quite intelligent. They provide companionship, they are loving, loyal, fun, innocent, playful and they can also provide protection whether it is physically or just because of their barking, which alerts us to the presence of strangers. Add to that the fact that you need to take them for daily walks, which will keep you healthy as well.
Bronco, Baylor, and Baby were not our only dogs. Below are various photos of our dogs.
Our Leonberger Bronco and our Pug DaisyOur Japanese Chin Ryu with our daughter who was 9 years old at the time.Our Japanese Chin Ryu.Our pug Daisy loved to sunbath even when it was hot. Here she is catching some rays while lying on our old backyard porch, which had gravel.Our Leonberger Bronco and our mini-Australian Shepherd Rollo. Our daughter with our pug Daisy and our mini-Australian Shepherd Rollo.A gray wolf on the left. Our mini-Australian Shepherd Rollo sitting in a stroller on the right. Whenever there was a sound that scared him, such as quacking ducks, or someone banging on something, he wanted to sit in Daisy’s stroller.
Left to right, Labrador called Baylor, Leonberger puppy called Bronco, and German Shepherd called Baby.
I should say Baby was a rescue dog who came to us via my wife’s sister. She had allegedly been abused in her previous family, as well as dumped at the shelter. For being a German Shepherd, she was anxious and did not have strong self-confidence. She did not like the dog park, which you could see because she tried to be by herself, and she was drooling while at the park. She was very smart, obedient, and easy, but she seemed depressed.
Baby at the dog park.
Even though Baby was a shy and anxious dog at first, once we got Bronco, her personality changed. She loved Bronco, and she took on the job of being Bronco’s adoptive mom. She played with him; she watched him; she was fiercely protective of him. Bronco was her puppy. She seemed rejuvenated, as if she had found an important job to do—a purpose, if you will. It was beautiful to see her take care of Bronco and play with him. She became happier and more confident, and Bronco loved her.
As an example of her protective behavior, once our daughter Rachel put a bucket over Bronco’s head. She was young and she was just playing. Baby barked at her in a gentle way so that she understood to take the bucket off. She told me later she did not feel threatened by Baby. She felt corrected, like a mother saying, “don’t do that”. Baby liked our daughter Rachel. Rachel was the first one to pet her when she joined our family.
Bronco, at the age of four or five months, would soon outgrow his playmate Baby.Bronco at the age of three months
What follows next is a scary story
One day I was out walking with Baylor, Baby, and Bronco. Bronco was very young, maybe four months old. We met a man walking two medium-size black dogs off leash. Suddenly, one of the dogs attacked us. There was nothing I could do. As I watched helplessly, the black dog made the monumental mistake of going for Bronco. If the dog had attacked Baylor or Baby, either dog would certainly have put up a courageous defense, but going after Bronco was nearly suicidal, not because of Bronco himself but because of Baby.
I heard a loud explosion of barks that lasted only a few seconds, and then I saw the black dog flying five or six feet up into the air. Baby had bitten him in the side and tossed him skyward. It was surreal. I almost couldn’t believe what I was witnessing.
The black dog lay in the street. The man knelt before him and started crying. He said his dog’s back was broken. I was mortified, and I said, “I am so terribly sorry.” He said, “It’s not your fault. I was the one walking my dogs without a leash.” It was gratifying for me to hear that under the circumstances, but it was no less tragic.
Then, to my astonishment, the black dog stood up and quickly walked back to the other side of the street. The dog was in shock, but he was fine. The man calmed down, and we said goodbye to each other on good terms.
It wasn’t the only time Baby protected Bronco, but it was the most memorable. Thinking about it still sends chills down my spine. Years later, after Baylor and Baby passed and we got our small dogs, Bronco would take on the role of their protector. He would save lives.
Bronco and Baby at the dog park. Bronco was still very young and did not yet look like an adult Leonberger. He was gangly and not very muscled yet.
However, as Bronco grew older Baby slowly grew out of the role as Bronco’s protector, especially when he wasn’t that well behaved himself. On one occasion when I was walking Bronco and Baby, we met a man and his dog walking on the other side of the street, heading toward us. Bronco started barking at the dog, and the other dog responded. Both dogs worked themselves up into a frenzy. Bronco began pulling on his leash and even jumping. Baby remained quiet. But with all his carrying on, Bronco accidentally bumped Baby into a storm drain, which we happened to be standing right in front of.
To save Baby, I lay on my stomach and grabbed her around her abdomen with one arm—all while holding Bronco’s leash with my other hand. He continued pulling, jumping, and barking as I gradually dragged Baby up out of the drain. The guy on the other side of the street looked at us with big eyes, as if he had seen an evil clown peering out from the storm drain. He lifted his dog up in his arms and ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction.
Me holding onto to poor Baby while also holding young and misbehaving Bronco. Illustration by Naomi Rosenblatt.
Meanwhile, Bronco had calmed down, and I was able to drag Baby back onto the street. She loved Bronco, but after this incident she showed us in her own way that she’d rather not take her walks with him. We respected her wishes, and I walked them separately from that point on. It was safer anyway.
Leonberger Life 