So the Mighty Lion is known for his chesty bark when visitors appear. He is harmless (ssh—don’t tell), but obnoxious. Exactly what is needed for a house in the country. A house anywhere, maybe.

In his older age, he sometimes barks for things only he “hears.”

This morning, Monty and I were serenely setting up for a zoom-meeting piano lesson in the basement, when the Lion began barking.

Piano lessons require a child’s concentration enough without a barking furry friend in the background.

I strode to the bottom of the stairs, gave it everything using my stomach, and belted out his name, “Fruh! Teeeeell-yyyy!!” (His real official name is Fratelli.)

I’ve been told that it is startling when I employ my I’m-in-charge-voice that I use with animals, because in contrast, I’ve also been told I sound like a little girl on the phone.

The Lion kept barking in spite of strict use of his given name. I inhaled deeply and prepared to issue another command from my afar position in the basement, when Steve (husband) appeared at the top of the steps.

“Hey, Hun,” he said pleasantly. “So-and-so is here for a meeting. Fratelli is shut up in Monty’s room, so it’s ok.”

Our house has an open design, so this meant that Steve’s associate would have been a few feet from him with clear hearing of my bellowing in an attempt to subdue the Mighty Lion.

“Oh, ok.” I quickly retreated to the piano lesson while imagining all the things Steve MIGHT say.

“Oh, I’m sorry your couldn’t meet my wife. She’s a lovely person. Really.”

That’s just for starters.