While Argos is the baby and master attention manipulator of my two Great Pyrenees, Luna has always been the smart one.

When we were potty training the puppies, we tried out the bell system. We attached a dangling bell to the knob of the door we most often used to take the puppies out and hit it before every potty break to associate the bell sound with going outside. It took Luna all of one day to figure out a way to trick the system. The house rang with the sound of the bell constantly as Luna attempted to capitalize on her newfound powers. She believed she now had the magical ability to make the door open at her own free will, her human slaves available at her beck and call. She was more than dismayed when we discovered her ploy and removed the bell.

When Luna was an angsty adolescent, she revealed yet another superpower: her penchant for elegant destruction. This revealed itself on a day when my brother made the unfortunate decision to leave his bedroom door open while we went out to dinner.

"Oh, come on!" I heard him yell from his room once we got home. The heavy padding of Luna's paws sounded down the hallway, away from the scene of the crime.

My first thought was that someone had vandalized my brother's $150, over-the-ear headphones with a screwdriver or some other high-grade power tool. The inner speaker had intricately been dissected from the rest of the headphones. Nothing else had been touched. Not the fluffy pads that nestle over the ear. Not the band of plastic that rests over the head, which would have made an excellent grip for a puppy's teeth. But no—Luna chose to mutilate the headphones in the one way that would permanently disable them.

"How did she even do that?" I could only be impressed by Luna's handiwork. "That must have taken skill."