The Gentle Giant

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"Dear Lando,

You're so cute, I could just stare at your face all day.  But you don't let me.  You eventually bore of the stare-off, turn your head, and nudge further under the couch.  You are a harmless beauty, despite your 'good figure'.  I admire how you eat in moderation, and how you turn and walk away from confrontation."

Lando-Commando, my big black beauty.  You came to us one rainy night 2 years ago.  A homeless heathen.  And you would come through the back door and look for shelter and food.  You didn't mad-dogg my cats, Chewy and Obi.  If we would catch you in the act, you would flee like any normal stray animal.  But we let you in during that wintery season and gave you food.  And like the "Love em' and Leave em'" types I often attract, you would be gone in the morning.

It took a long time for us to trap you.  We got you neutered and got all your shots and put you back out in the world (or rather, on the walk back from the vet, the cage came loose and you darted for the sewer).  But a few days later, you came to us again. 

It would take a full year before we were able to actually pick you up.  But like a fish out of water, you get the look of death in your face and squirm away.  What makes you so frightened, dear Lando?  It doesn't matter, we adore you anyway.

And we love how your eyes are really close together.  We call you "the Eye" in addition to "Lanny", "Lanzo", "Commando"....

You do this strange thing where you will lie on your back under the couch, and pull yourself along using the cheap micro-suede as a pulley, of sorts.  Initially, I was slightly agitated that you were tearing the under-parts of our couch, and then I remembered I bought it on Craigslist for about a dime, and felt more at ease with the situation.  And anyway, it's cute.

Trouble kicks your gentle ass with great frequency, which is odd to us.  You are twice his size, and he can barely breathe, so what's up with that, Lando?

But you're a lover, not a fighter.  You take your gentle body and your two eyes that look like one, and you tip-toe, ever so quietly, away from the situation. 

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