Hi, I’m Ladee. I make noises when I sit down, I don’t get up quickly, and every nap I take is both intentional and well-earned.
I’ve reached the stage of life where comfort is non-negotiable and soft surfaces are deeply appreciated. I believe a good dog bed should cradle you like it knows your life story, and belly rubs should be given generously and without a timer. I move a little slower these days, not because I can’t hurry, but because I see no reason to. I am wise now. I don’t waste energy on nonsense. I nap strategically. I observe from my spot and offer quiet companionship, the kind that fills a room without demanding attention. I will happily keep you company, lean into you when I need reassurance, and remind you that slowing down isn’t a bad thing — it’s actually pretty great. I don’t need adventures or excitement. I need a home where I can be loved through my golden years, where my pace is respected, my naps are uninterrupted, and my presence is valued. Give me a soft bed, kind hands, and a family who understands that the best kind of love is calm, steady, and real — and I promise I’ll give you my whole heart in return.
Hi. I’m Ladee. I’m an 80-pound female Pyr/Shepherd mix… and to be very clear, that’s a very emaciated 80 pounds. I’m also a senior. At the shelter, that’s usually where the story ends for dogs like me. My story was headed toward a back room, a sad ending, and a line on a clipboard that said “euthanized.” You see, older girls like me don’t catch many eyes. We don’t bounce anymore. We don’t sparkle in kennels. We move slower, we sleep more, and we don’t scream “pick me!” the way the younger ones do. People tend to walk past us. They tend to assume we’ve already lived our life. I felt that. I knew it. And after a while… I accepted it. I was tired. I was depressed. I truly believed no one was coming for me. And then something happened that I still don’t fully understand. This rescue saw me. Not a problem. Not a burden. Me. And somehow, a foster family saw me, too. Before I could wrap my head around it, I was being bailed out of doggie jail and driven to a quiet house with soft places to land. A real bed. Gentle voices. Safety. I didn’t know how badly I needed that until I finally had it. When I went to the vet, the truth of my past came out. My body has been carrying years of neglect — heartworms, ehrlichia, intestinal parasites, the start of a respiratory infection I picked up at the shelter, and pain in my back end that suggests arthritis and sore knees that have been hurting for a long, long time. But every day I get better, and this rescue is making sure all the things that once ailed me are getting addressed/taken care of. I waited a long time for someone to see me.. And I’m really hoping this isn’t where people stop reading…
Because soon I’ll be ready to be adopted, and more than anything, I would love for a family to be waiting for me because, as it turns out, I still have quite a bit of living to do! <3
When it comes to other dogs, I’m polite. I’m respectful. I mind my business. I’ll sniff, I might offer a few face kisses if you seem nice, and then I’ll go back to doing whatever important senior activities I was doing before (mostly napping). That said, I’m also very comfortable being an only dog. I don’t need a canine social calendar to feel fulfilled. I’m independent, emotionally secure, and perfectly content whether I have dog roommates or not. Young dogs, however… how do I put this kindly… they have a lot of feelings and very little volume control. I don’t scold, I don’t snap — I simply get up slowly, sigh internally, and relocate to a quieter area like the mature adult I am. So if you have other calm, respectful dogs? Great. If you don’t have any dogs at all? Also great.
If you’re hoping I’ll wrestle with a puppy? Absolutely not, and I think we both know that. I’m here for peaceful coexistence, not daycare. I haven’t lived with any cats in my foster home, so I can’t give you a full report. That said, at this stage of my life, I’m not exactly chasing anything with enthusiasm. If a cat exists, I will likely notice it, consider it briefly, and then decide that laying back down is the better option. Yes, I’ve been around kids. The small, energetic kind. Ages five and seven. They were nice. I was polite. I accepted pets like a professional. And then, when the volume increased and the excitement escalated, I quietly decided I had fulfilled my social obligations for the day. I don’t mind kids at all — I’m gentle and patient — but I do operate on a very firm nap schedule. If things get loud, chaotic, or start to feel like a birthday party I didn’t RSVP to, I simply get up and move to another room. So respectful kids who understand that I’m more of a quiet companion than a playmate? Great. A household that expects me to participate in constant activity? Hard pass. Meeting new people? Oh, I don’t get up for that anymore.I don’t jump up, rush over, or feel the need to introduce myself immediately. I stay where I am, assess the situation, and let you come to me. I’ve lived long enough to know I don’t need to pop up every time someone walks through the door.
Once I’ve decided you’re alright, I warm up just fine. You might get a tail wag, a gentle nose nudge, or—if you’re especially deserving—an invitation for belly rubs. That’s big trust.
Energy level: 1. I have officially retired from unnecessary movement.
I don’t zoom, I don’t bounce, and I don’t believe in expending energy unless there is a very good reason — like food, potty breaks, or relocating to a better nap spot. Everything else can wait.
I’m calm, quiet, and perfectly content supervising life from a comfortable surface. If you’re looking for a jogging partner, I am not your girl. If you’re looking for someone to sit with you, keep you company, and remind you that rest is important… congratulations, you’ve found me. I am low energy, high quality, and deeply committed to the art of taking it easy. Yes. I need help getting into the car. My legs are older than they look and we don’t do unnecessary acrobatics anymore. I appreciate a boost, a ramp, or a supportive human who understands that dignity and joints sometimes need assistance. Once I’m in, I immediately lie down in the backseat and settle down for another nap. Once the leash is on, I know my job: go where you go, don’t pull, don’t make a fuss. I walk politely and with purpose, like someone running a quick errand, not training for a marathon. That said, let’s be clear — I’m not here for long walks, power walking, or “just one more mile.” Leash time is a when necessary situation. Potty breaks? Yes. Short strolls? Acceptable. Extended adventures? Bold of you to assume.
I do my part, I behave, and then I’m ready to go back inside and resume my regularly scheduled resting. Adventure-seeker?
Absolutely not. I am a homebody in every sense of the word. My greatest joys in life include a good dog bed, a solid nap, and being indoors where the climate is controlled and the floor is familiar. I will occasionally step outside to sniff the yard or lay in the sunshine like a well-placed houseplant. That is the extent of my outdoor enthusiasm. Once I’ve absorbed enough vitamin D, I’m ready to head back inside and resume resting. If your idea of a perfect day involves staying in and doing nothing together — congratulations, we are extremely compatible. Overall temperament? Calm. I’m gentle, steady, and emotionally stable — which is what happens when you stop caring about nonsense. What do I want in life? Very little. A soft dog bed that doesn’t fight back, a family who understands that I need a moment before standing, and belly rubs delivered consistently. That’s it. That’s the dream.
What kind of home would I thrive in? One that understands efficiency. Ideally, I’d like a securely fenced yard so I can step outside, handle my business, and come right back in like the mature professional I am. No long journeys. No unnecessary cardio. Just a quick out-and-back situation. Lots of stairs are… not my favorite. My knees would prefer we not make that a daily event. And long leash walks just to go potty? That feels excessive at this stage of my life. I’m not opposed to leash walks — I’ll do them — but I strongly believe bathroom trips should be practical, respectful, and as short as possible. Potty trained? Yes… with a small footnote. My back legs have been hurting, and while the meds are helping, I sometimes wait until the very last possible second to make important decisions. Occasionally, the timing does not work out in anyone’s favor, and things happen indoors. When my people are home and paying attention, I can usually be caught in time and escorted outside like the dignified senior I am. I try. My body just doesn’t always give me much notice. It’s kind of like when an older lady sneezes unexpectedly and… well… surprises herself. Aging is magical like that. I have never been kenneled because I do not require that level of supervision. I’m not destructive, I don’t get into things, and I have zero interest in making poor life choices while you’re gone. I simply locate a comfortable surface and wait for your return. I’m aware barking exists. I just don’t see the point. Even when the other dogs are carrying on about absolutely nothing, I remain silent. I observe. I judge quietly. I conserve energy. If something truly important were happening, I might consider a response — but so far, nothing has risen to that level. I’m sweet, gentle, and very low-maintenance emotionally — but physically, I’ve reached the stage of life where the day doesn’t really start until the meds kick in. With my daily pain medication, I feel good, get comfortable, and enjoy life just fine. Without them? Let’s just say my joints file a formal complaint. This isn’t dramatic or scary — it’s just part of aging. You take your vitamins, I take my meds, we all move on. I still have a great quality of life, I just do it at a slower pace and with better pharmaceutical support. All I’m asking for is someone willing to love me through my golden years, hand me my meds without making it weird, and appreciate that older bodies need a little extra care. In return, I offer loyalty, quiet companionship.
So if you’re looking for a sweet, calm, well-mannered senior girl who won’t redecorate your house, won’t bark at ghosts, and will happily love you from the comfort of a very good dog bed… hello. It’s me. I’m ready. If you think you might be my people, please fill out an adoption application at https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app so it can be sent over to my foster family. They’ll handle the details — I’ll handle the loving.
Pickup will be in Yukon, OK, where I will be waiting calmly, probably napping, and very much hoping you’re on your way. I didn’t choose to be starting over in my golden years. Life tossed me a curveball, I missed it entirely, and now here we are. I’m adjusting, doing my best, and still showing up with a whole lot of love — just at a slightly slower pace and with more commentary. I may be older, a little creakier, and no longer interested in nonsense, but I am absolutely just as deserving of a family as any other dog… if not more, honestly. I’ve put in the years. I’ve paid my dues. I’ve earned the soft bed.
