Introducing Paws—a 6-year-old, 69-pound female Great Pyrenees mix who may be missing the coveted Pyr fluff, but has wisely replaced it with approximately 69 pounds of pure, concentrated sweetness. Yes, we know. She isn’t a traditional walking cloud. But considering you just complained about picking up yet another one of Tuffy’s fluffball tumbleweeds from the corner of your living room, perhaps you have secretly been wishing for a dog with a little more dog and a little less airborne insulation. Paws is incredibly sweet, wonderfully easygoing, and always ready to receive love. Her signature move is placing her paw in your hand and waiting for you to hold it. Not shake it. Not inspect it. Hold it. She would like emotional support, meaningful eye contact, and perhaps a whispered promise that she is the prettiest girl in the entire world. Imagine a 69-pound toddler asking to hold hands, except this toddler is house-trained, doesn’t demand a snack shaped like a dinosaur, and is covered in a sensible, low-maintenance amount of fur. She may not leave enough fluff around your house to build a second dog, but Paws brings all the gentleness, devotion, and quiet majesty people love about the breed. She is less “sentient snowdrift” and more “sleek emotional-support polar bear”—still substantial, still beautiful, and considerably less likely to clog your vacuum on a daily basis.
Pickup Location: Fairplay, CO
-Adopter will need to pick up in person if approved. We do not do transports.
Apply here:
https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app
Paws is a dog who believes life is best enjoyed with three things: loving humans, a canine best friend, and someone willing to hold her paw during emotionally significant moments such as Tuesday afternoon. Paws absolutely loves other dogs and would thrive with a playful canine companion who is equally interested in turning friendship into a full-time position. She does wonderfully playing outside with her foster brother Eddie and would very much like to be promoted from “temporary roommate” to “official best friend.” She is not searching for a dog who merely agrees to coexist in the same ZIP code. She wants a buddy. A confidant. A recreational wrestling partner. Someone with whom she can patrol the yard, discuss neighborhood developments, and wait near the door when the humans make the outrageous decision to leave the house without consulting them. Inside, Eddie sometimes guards his treasures and growls at her, which has led to a few arguments. Paws is unbelievably sweet, but she is not going to stand there like a frightened Victorian housemaid while a smaller dog screams at her over a petrified piece of cheese he found beneath the couch. If repeatedly challenged, she may defend herself. Cats are an entirely different story—mostly because Paws has no interest in their story whatsoever. Her foster home contains five cats, and she could not care less about them. Five furry little criminals wander through the house with switchblades attached to their feet, routinely knocking objects off tables while maintaining direct eye contact, and Paws has decided this is above her pay grade. Paws has also done well with every child she has met. She lives with older kids and has met several younger children between the ages of three and nine when accompanying her foster mom to work. She was sweet and appropriate with them and caused no problems. However, because Paws is naturally shy, sensitive, and a little nervous in unfamiliar situations, her foster believes she would be happiest in an adult household or with an older, quieter child. She does not need to live inside a perpetual birthday party where three sticky toddlers are chasing her with pool noodles while someone plays “Baby Shark” through a karaoke machine. She would prefer calm people who understand that friendship does not need to begin with squealing, hugging, and immediate full-body enthusiasm. When meeting new people, Paws is shy and nervous at first. She prefers a calm introduction on a leash so she can observe you from a reasonable distance, evaluate your intentions, and determine whether you appear emotionally stable enough to hold her paw. She tends to be more comfortable with women initially, but she has warmed up beautifully to her foster dad and her foster sister’s boyfriend. Patience is mandatory. You cannot meet Paws, clap your hands against your thighs, loudly announce that “ALL DOGS LOVE ME,” and expect her to immediately climb into your lap while a choir of angels performs in the background. She needs time. She needs calm. Once she feels secure, Paws becomes wonderfully relaxed, affectionate, and devoted. Her signature move is placing her paw in your hand and asking you to hold it. This is not “shake.” This is an emotional-support appointment. She will place that paw gently in your palm and gaze up at you like a woman in a period drama whose husband has just returned from war. At that point, you are legally required to hold it, tell her she is beautiful, and reassure her that she will never again be expected to face Tuesday afternoon alone.
At six years old, Paws is considered an adult, but apparently nobody remembered to inform her that she was expected to become dignified and begin collecting sensible hobbies. She is a very young six: playful, curious, affectionate, and ready to participate in family life. With an energy level of about 6 out of 10, she strikes a lovely balance between “let’s go do something” and “I have become one with this couch.” She would do well with a semi-active family who enjoys walks, car rides, playtime, and smaller adventures without needing every weekend to resemble an expedition documentary narrated by Bear Grylls. Paws loves going for walks. She likes to be at the front of the group, leading the expedition like a 69-pound Lewis and Clark who forgot Clark but brought a reusable poop bag. Every bush must be inspected. Every suspicious patch of grass must be analyzed. Every mailbox must be checked for breaking news left behind by a Labrador named Kevin. She is nervous when loud vehicles pass on Main Street, particularly large cars and trucks. Her future family will need to reassure her and help her continue building confidence. Quiet walking routes would be ideal at first. She does not need to be marched beside an eighteen-wheeler while someone yells, “See? It’s fine!” over the sound of twelve thousand pounds of machinery and her soul temporarily leaving her body. A securely fenced yard is an absolute requirement. Paws loves being outside, but she can become frightened and uncertain in unfamiliar surroundings. She has never attempted to escape, but her foster believes she could enter fight-or-flight mode if something scared her. And since Paws is not especially confrontational, we can safely assume her nervous system will select “flight”. Her adopter should supervise her in the yard while she adjusts, leash her anytime she leaves the property, and give her time to understand that this is her new home. No testing her recall beside an open gate because “she seems attached already.” Plenty of people seem attached until a dump truck hits a pothole and suddenly they are a beige blur heading toward Nebraska. When it is time for a car ride, Paws requires no help. Tell her to “load up,” and she hops right in. There is no ramp, crane, forklift, cheese trail, or group of adults chanting encouragement while one person attempts to guide her rear end through the door. Paws understands transportation logistics. She gets genuinely excited for car rides and adventures. Her idea of adventure does not require climbing a mountain, crossing a river, or being photographed beside a tent at sunrise. A peaceful trail, a car ride, a quiet pet-friendly outing, or a trip through the drive-thru where someone accidentally orders an extra cheeseburger would qualify.
She does bark outside when people pass or the neighbor dogs begin making announcements. Her bark is not especially loud, and her foster is working on correcting unnecessary commentary because they live in a neighborhood. Paws is not trying to become a full-time nuisance. She simply believes the community deserves to know that a man in cargo shorts has walked past the property carrying what appears to be a highly suspicious iced coffee. Paws enjoys toys and loves to play, but she does not play fetch. From her perspective, if you throw a perfectly good toy across the yard, you have created a problem for yourself. She hopes you use this experience as an opportunity for personal growth. Water, however, does not qualify. Paws does not like playing in it. She has examined swimming and concluded that land has been working perfectly well for millions of years. She will not be joining your paddleboarding club, jumping from the dock, or standing happily in a kiddie pool while wearing sunglasses for Instagram. Please direct all aquatic opportunities toward a Labrador with fewer personal boundaries. Inside the house, Paws is a very good girl. She is potty trained, does not chew inappropriate items, and knows “sit,” “shake,” “no,” “stay,” and “calm.” She has more commands on her résumé than some of the people currently operating motor vehicles. “Shake” is her specialty, although she frequently turns it into “please hold my paw while I process the emotional complexity of being alive.” There is no official release command. The meeting concludes when Paws feels adequately cherished. She is allowed on the couch and believes this is one of the few household policies humans have gotten completely right. When her foster family is away, she usually sleeps there. At 69 pounds, she is less of a lapdog and more of an affectionate sectional attachment, but she carries herself with the confidence of a seven-pound Yorkie who has never once been told no. Kenneling is not a good fit for Paws. Her foster family tried a crate initially, but she was extremely nervou
HALO
Great Pyrenees
🇺🇸
Kiowa, Oklahoma
male, large, baby
Great Pyrenees
Kiowa, Oklahoma
