On a warm spring day in 2010, Alex shouted excitedly.
“Dad, come see this!”
She was looking over her mother’s shoulder at a Facebook post. A woman out for a morning walk found an abandoned puppy in a box by the side of the road. She couldn’t keep him and was trying to find him a home.
The puppy was very cute. He didn’t look like any dog I had seen before. His coat was brushed in shades of gray and black—like someone had painted him in layers rather than colors. There were also highlights of white and brown. I later learned it was called a blue merle.
“Can we get him?” Alex pleaded. Her mother was in full support.
I hesitated. We already had two dogs—Roxy and Blitz. Three might be too much—the expense, the logistics, the space.
I remember having the same concerns when we went from one dog to two. It hadn’t made much difference.
I looked at Alex and said, “Only if we can name him Kal-El.”
A year earlier, I pushed for that name for our German Shepherd, but the family chose Blitz. They were right. It was a better fit.
But this time, Kal-El was the perfect name. It’s Superman’s name—also an orphan, found in a field, who needed a loving family to take him in.
Alex jumped up and down with excitement. My wife contacted her friend and made the arrangements. Later that morning, we made the hour-long drive to meet Kal-El.
Kal-El was just as adorable in person—sweet, a little shy, and very dirty.
He was covered in fleas. Worms were coming out of his back end. He was clearly too young to have been separated from his mother. I wasn’t excited about bringing him into a home with two healthy dogs, but I made a commitment.
On the way home, we called the vet. They had time available, so we brought Kal-El directly to the clinic.
The doctor examined Kal-El and said he was in surprisingly good shape. He weighed six pounds and she estimated his age to be seven weeks. Her best guess at his breed was Australian Shepherd.
She gave Kal-El medication to take care of the fleas and sent us home with dewormer that we would have to give to all the dogs. It was a powder that had to be mixed with canned food. Roxy and Blitz, who ate dry food, considered it a treat.
We made an appointment for a follow-up visit and brought Kal-El home to meet the pack.
My wife carried Kal-El from the car. I brought Roxy and Blitz outside to meet him.
Roxy gave Kal-El a sniff and went off to play. Then it was Blitz’s turn. He was a 100-pound giant next to the tiny puppy. Kal-El wasn’t even as big as Blitz’s head.
We held Kal-El out for Blitz to sniff. Their noses touched and Kal-El’s tail wagged furiously. Blitz gave a couple wags as well and a bromance was born.
Blitz sat down and Kal-El walked immediately to his side.
He cuddled up next to the giant German Shepherd as if he knew he had just found the safe home he needed. The two became inseparable.
When Kal-El was young, a friend asked whose dog he would be. Blitz was my dog. Roxy was my wife’s. It turned out Kal-El was Blitz’s dog. He followed Blitz everywhere. He did whatever Blitz did.
Kal-El was the easiest dog I ever trained. All I had to do was give Blitz a command—Kal-El copied it. If I called Blitz, Kal-El came too. When Blitz sat, Kal-El sat too. When I told Blitz to stay, Kal-El stayed right beside him.
Blitz took his job as big brother seriously.
Once Kal-El got a clean bill of health, we took him to the dog park. Blitz loved the dog park and raced off to play with his friends.
Without Blitz, Kal-El was overwhelmed. He crawled under a chair and stayed there. I tried to coax him out, but he wouldn’t budge. So I called Blitz back.
Blitz looked under the chair and gave Kal-El a nudge. Kal-El slowly came out. He explored the park and Blitz stayed right behind him. By the end of the visit, Kal-El was racing around and happily playing with the other dogs in the park—with Blitz at his side.
Though Kal-El and Blitz were always together, their personalities couldn’t have been more different. Blitz was the confident, self-assured German Shepherd. Kal-El was the happy-go-lucky, hyperactive, sometimes pesky little brother.
Where Blitz was calm, Kal-El was excitable. You would think they’d clash—that Blitz would grow annoyed with the commotion. But he remained patient with Kal-El. He enjoyed him, even when he had to put Kal-El in his place.
Kal-El loved to challenge Blitz. If he was feeling frisky, he would pounce on Blitz in the backyard or stare him down, challenging him to wrestle.
It never ended well for Kal-El. He was 30 to 40 pounds lighter than Blitz. They would romp for a while. Blitz would let Kal-El think he was getting the upper hand. Then, when Blitz had enough—WHACK!
Blitz would swat him with a paw, straddle Kal-El, and pin him to the ground with his jaws around Kal-El’s neck. He never hurt Kal-El. He just held him down until Kal-El gave up. I called it the jaws of death.
Kal-El grew into a joyful adult. He outgrew his puppy timidity and could go out in the world without Blitz. He never developed any alpha male tendencies, perhaps because there was never a question about who the alpha was in the pack. He was friendly, happy, and easygoing.
When Kal-El was two years old, Alex needed a community service project for school. So we decided to train Kal-El and Roxy as therapy dogs. It suited their personalities.
We signed up with Pets on Wheels and went through the evaluation process. Both dogs passed with flying colors.
Once they were eligible to volunteer, we started with Kal-El. For the next several months, Kal-El visited the local hospital to cheer up patients who were dog lovers. He would sit on a chair next to their bed and let them pet him.
He brought them joy in difficult moments. He seemed happy to do it, as if he were paying back the universe for the life he’d been given.
That life did get more difficult. The most heartbreaking moment in the history of the pack, for me, came in 2014 when my wife and I separated. Divorce came the following year.
The kids were old enough to make their own choices about where they wanted to be. She wanted to share custody of the dogs. Once the divorce was final, I did not want to share anything with her again.
I wanted to keep all of the dogs. Perhaps I should have pushed that harder. But they were her dogs too and, as much as I hated the idea of splitting them up, I thought it was fair—to her if not to them.
Blitz was non-negotiable. I was keeping him. I assumed she would take Roxy—the one who bonded to her. But she chose Kal-El and he went to live with her.
We still saw Kal-El from time to time. He would come over for play dates when she needed dog-sitting services. Eventually, she did the same for Roxy and Blitz. But Kal-El missed his old home. He probably missed Blitz most of all.
I was out to lunch one afternoon when I got a call from my neighbor.
“Kal-El is standing on your front porch with a woman I don’t know.”
Apparently, the gate had been left open at Kal-El’s new house. He decided to visit Blitz. So he walked the two miles between our houses. He found his way—even though he had never walked it, only ridden in a car.
He caught the attention of a passer-by when he crossed a busy street. She saw Kal-El walking on his own and followed him to make sure he was safe.
When he got to my house and no one was home, she knocked on my neighbor’s door. My neighbor stayed with him until my ex-wife came to get him.
That broke my heart.
I knew Kal-El was loved where he was. Aside from an accidentally open gate, I knew he was safe. That wasn’t the issue.
I felt like I let him down—that I could have done more so he didn’t feel the need to run away.
Kal-El started having seizures in late 2016. I don’t know the details of that since he was no longer living with me. I was told the doctors did their best to treat him, but the seizures were too much and he died at the age of six and a half—far too young.
I wrote before that Roxy was joy and Blitz was loyalty.
Kal-El was gratitude—thankful for the life he’d been given after a difficult start, always a joy to be around.
Rescuing him is one of the best things I’ve done. Giving him up is my deepest regret.
Kal-El’s story is one of those that matter—the lessons from The Great Dog Pack that reflect what the Alex Lebovic Foundation carries forward.
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Kal-El and Blitz
Here is a short video of Blitz and Kal-El playing together when Kal-El was a puppy. You can see Blitz’s remarkable patience and how comfortable Kal-El was with the much bigger dog.
So cute. Blitz was very gentle
Another great story
Thank you