Chow Chow puppies and dogs in Bartlesville, Oklahoma

Whisper Woofington here. Please don’t let the name fool you — I am not here to whisper. I am here to politely but persistently request your admiration at all times. I am sweet. Like, offensively sweet. The kind of sweet where people say, “Oh my gosh, she’s perfect,” and I just blink slowly because I already knew that. I am playful, but in a refined, elegant Woofington fashion. Think “spirited socialite at a garden party." As a proud member of the Woofington family, I carry myself with grace, charm, and just the tiniest sprinkle of main-character energy. I am affectionate, loyal, playful, and ready to be someone’s absolute favorite hello and hardest goodbye. Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am a 6-week-old, 6-pound female Chow Chow / Eskimo mix. Do we know that for sure. Absolutely not. Will the humans continue confidently tossing out breed guesses like they have a DNA crystal ball. Also yes. What we do know is this: I am an adorable fluffball and that fact is not up for debate. My breed mix could change 47 times between now and Tuesday and I would still be this level of cute. Now let’s discuss the part where everyone squints at me and says, “How big will she get?” The current prediction is somewhere in the 40-pound range. Somewhere. In the vicinity. In the general neighborhood of. And before you start drafting a contract in your head, let me remind you that rescue math is 80% guesswork and 20% vibes. If I end up 35 pounds? Delightful. If I end up 48 pounds? Still delightful. If weight projections are going to keep you up at night, it may be best you keep scrolling. I am not a build-a-bear with guaranteed settings. I came into rescue with my mama, Willow, my daddy, Walker, my sister Windy, and my slightly older, seasoned professional sister from a previous litter, Waverly. Yes, we are a whole fluffy dynasty. The Woofington-adjacent extended cinematic universe, if you will. So if you’re ready for a mystery-breed marshmallow who may or may not be part Chow, part Eskimo, part cloud, and 100% heart-stealer… Congratulations. You’ve found me. I love other dogs. Adore them. Idolize them. I think they are the greatest invention since kibble. My foster siblings? Obsessed. I follow them like a tiny, fluffy intern trying to learn the ropes of being fabulous. And the bigger puppies? Yes, I see them. Yes, they are three times my size. And yes, I absolutely march right up and attempt to join the festivities like I pay rent here. Fearless? Maybe. Delusional? Also maybe. But confidence looks good on me. Ah yes. The mysterious house panther. The whiskered enigma. The creature who believes eye contact is a personal attack. Have I met one? No. Given that I love seem to love everyone and generally believe everyone should adore me, I suspect I would attempt friendship. Whether the cat agrees is… another matter entirely. How do I do around kids? Another excellent question for someone who is six weeks old and has approximately seven life experiences. Have I been around children yet? No. Based on my current personality résumé, I would likely do very well with respectful kids. You know — the kind who understand that I am tiny, precious, and not a stuffed animal from the clearance bin. Gentle hands? Wonderful. Calm energy? Delightful. Snack-dropping tendencies? A true blessing. As with all things in rescue, it comes down to supervision, guidance, and teaching everyone involved how to coexist like civilized beings. I will bring the sweetness. The humans will bring the structure. Teamwork makes the fluff work. What would I rate my energy level right now between 1 and 10? First of all, I am six weeks old. I operate on a highly sophisticated schedule of Play → Crash → Repeat. On average? I’d say I’m around a 5. I zoom. I pounce. I dramatically tackle toys as if they have personally offended me. And then, approximately 12 minutes later, I collapse into a tiny, fluffy comma and require immediate nap time. My personality? Oh good. My favorite topic. I am sweet. Like, melt-into-your-hands sweet. I am playful, but in a charming, “oh look at her go” kind of way. And attention? Yes. I would like that. Regularly. Generously. Preferably on demand. If I feel I am not being adequately admired, I will politely issue the tiniest, most adorable little “woo-woos.” Basically, I am a tender little marshmallow discovering that the world is fun and that I belong in it. Oh good. We’ve arrived at the “responsibility” portion of this biography. I am six weeks old. I am six pounds. I am doing my absolute best simply existing and being this adorable. So here’s how this works. My new family needs to be fully prepared to potty train. You will also need to puppy-proof. Which means if I find it, it was left there for me. Shoes? That’s on you. Phone charger? That’s on you. Decorative basket you didn’t think I could reach? Especially on you. Socialization? Yes please. I am in my sponge era. I need positive introductions to new people, places, sounds, and experiences so I can grow into the confident, well-adjusted queen I am clearly meant to be. That doesn’t magically happen. That happens because you put in the effort. Training? Absolutely. I am smart. I am capable. I am willing. But I am not self-taught. I need guidance, structure, and someone committed to helping me learn the rules of civilized society. If you’re ready to invest the time, consistency, and patience it takes to raise a tiny fluff into a well-mannered masterpiece, then we’re going to be amazing together. If you’re hoping I arrive fully programmed with manners, emotional maturity, and a law degree… I suggest you adopt a houseplant instead. Now, let’s recap why I am an excellent life decision: I am the kind of puppy who will grow up believing you are her whole world. The kind who will prance proudly beside you, snuggle deeply, and “woo-woo” politely when she requires affection (which is often, but tastefully so). Now… logistics. Because love is magical, but paperwork is real. If you would like to adopt me, you must fill out an actual adoption application. Not a DM. Not a “still available?” Not a carrier pigeon. A real application. Why? Because it gets sent to my foster family so they can confirm you are, in fact, worthy of this level of fluff. Once approved, you will need to pick me up in Skiatook, Oklahoma. I can go home around March 14th, which gives you just enough time to puppy-proof your house, emotionally prepare your heart, and clear space on your camera roll. So here’s your cue: Stop scrolling. Fill out the application at https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app Prepare for woo-woos. Secure the fluff. 💕 Whisper Woofington

Oh good. You found me. I was beginning to think I’d have to send out engraved invitations. Hi. I’m Windy Woofington of the Woofington family. Yes, those Woofingtons. We come with fluff, opinions, and an unshakable belief that we deserve to be adored at all times. Let me tell you a little about myself since clearly you’re here because you have excellent taste. I’m the lean-into-you, melt-into-your-side, follow-you-to-the-bathroom-because-boundaries-are-a-suggestion kind of sweet. I am playful. I enjoy toys, siblings, feet that move under blankets (highly suspicious), and spontaneous living room zoom investigations. If something squeaks, crinkles, rolls, or exists — I would like to examine it. Thoroughly. But don’t let the sass fool you — I am a soft little marshmallow under all this fluff. I love attention. I love being part of the action. I love knowing my people are near. I’m the kind of girl who will play hard and then dramatically flop down for a nap like I’ve just completed a marathon. I am a 6-week-old, 6-pound female Chow Chow / American Eskimo mix. Do we know this for sure? Nope. Will I still be an adorable sentient cotton ball regardless of what breed I am? Absopawsitively. The official prediction is that I’ll top out somewhere around 40 pounds. Now listen closely: do not hold me to that. Everything in rescue is an educated guess wrapped in optimism. If the idea of me landing at 45 pounds instead of 40 (or 35 instead of 40) sends you into a spreadsheet spiral, it’s probably best you keep scrolling. I am a surprise package. Embrace the mystery. I came into rescue with my mama Willow, my dad Walker, my sister Windy, and my older sister from a previous litter, Waverly after we found ourselves in the shelter. I love other dogs. Big ones. Little ones. Medium ones. The ones who run. The ones who supervise. The ones who pretend they’re not playing but absolutely are. I am an equal-opportunity social butterfly. With puppies my size? It’s a full production. Wrestling, bouncing, dramatic flops, suspicious toy theft investigations — you know, professional puppy business. With bigger dogs? I do not panic. I do not faint. I do not clutch imaginary pearls. I confidently stroll up like, “Hello. I too am a dog. Let us discuss important matters.” I’m respectful, but I’m not intimidated. Fluff does not equal fragility. I truly enjoy being part of a pack. Cats? A whiskered overlord has crossed my path has yet to cross my path. Now, will I approach a cat like I approach everything else in life? With curiosity, optimism, and the confidence of someone who has never faced consequences? Highly possible. Will I assume we are friends until proven otherwise? Also highly possible. Children? You mean the small, loud, fast-moving humans with sticky hands? I have not yet been formally introduced to one. I am gentle. I am social. I enjoy humans of the full-sized variety. I like attention. I like being part of the action. I’m not a dramatic fainting goat. So based on my current résumé, I would likely do well with respectful kiddos. Energy level? Let’s call it a solid 5 out of 10. When I’m awake? I am awake. I’m exploring. I’m investigating. I’m participating in Important Puppy Business. Toys will be tested. Siblings will be pounced on. Rooms will be inspected. And then? I power down like someone hit the off switch. Mid-play. Mid-thought. Possibly mid-stride. I will simply melt into the nearest soft surface and recharge. This is called efficiency. Oh, you’d like to know about my personality? I’m sweet — the gentle lean-in-for-pets type. I’m playful — but not reckless. I enjoy toys, new sights, new smells, and new experiences… I just prefer to check the vibes before cannonballing into the situation. And every day? I get a little braver. A little bolder. A little more “yes, I will absolutely go see what that is.” There’s something thoughtful about me. I’m not just fluff. I’m fluff with depth. Let’s discuss what my new family needs to be prepared for — and by “prepared,” I mean emotionally, physically, and possibly financially committed. So potty training? That’s on you, bestie. You are the CEO of consistency. You are the scheduler. You are the one setting alarms and throwing potty parties like I just won the lottery every time I go outside. Puppy proofing? Also you. If it’s on the floor and shouldn’t be chewed, perhaps it should not be on the floor. I am not being rebellious — I am conducting scientific research with my mouth. Very normal. Very developmental. Socializing? You guessed it. Still you. Introduce me to new people, safe dogs, sounds, places, experiences — all the things that help me grow into a confident, stable adult. I’m naturally curious and thoughtful, which is excellent news. But confidence doesn’t grow itself. That’s a team project. Training? Again. You. I’m smart. I’m observant. I like to process before I leap. That means I will absolutely learn — but someone has to actually teach me. Positive reinforcement, patience, guidance… I will meet you halfway. Raise me well and I will become the kind of dog that people can't stop talking about. From my looks to my manners, we will sure be the talk of the town! After all, I am a Woofington! Listen… I am sweet. I am thoughtful. I am fluffy in a way that should probably require a permit. I am the kind of puppy who will quietly sneak into your heart, curl up there, and refuse to leave. If you’re ready for a loyal little pack member who will blossom into something really special? That’s me. Now. Let’s discuss logistics. If you are feeling emotionally moved by my fluff and charm (understandable), you will need to fill out an adoption application. Because apparently just saying “OMG I want her” in the comments is not legally binding. Once you complete said application, the nice rescue humans will send it to my foster family for review. They are the gatekeepers. The council. And when approved? You will need to pick me up in Skiatook, OK. I’ll be here. Being adorable. Waiting for my people. Apply at https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app With fluff and selective patience, Windy Woofington 🐾

Hi. I’m Willow Woofington, resident old soul of the Woofington family. Royal lineage. Emotional depth. Probably writes poetry in her spare time. We specialize in soulful gazes, quiet loyalty, and emotionally profound staring contests. I am what you might call… a gentle soul. Let’s address the obvious: I am not the “kick the door down and cannonball into your lap” type. I am the quiet girl at the party who’s reading the room, analyzing vibes, and deciding who is worthy of my soft little heart. I bond slowly. Deliberately. Like a classic novel — not a pop-up ad. Consistency is my love language. Calm voices? Yes please. Gentle guidance? Absolutely. Reassurance? Chef’s kiss. If you are steady, kind, and patient, I will absolutely bloom for you. I am allegedly a 4-year-old, 34-lb female Chow Chow / American Eskimo mix. Do we know this for sure? No. Will people still confidently announce new breeds every time they meet me? Absolutely. “Is she part fox?” “Maybe Shiba?” “I see Pomeranian in the eyebrows.” People will always have their guesses, and I guess that is the fun part about adopting a rescue dog. Here’s what we do know: I am an adorable with a face that suggests I hold ancient wisdom and possibly judge your snack choices and I am ready to find my happily ever after. Now, I didn’t exactly arrive in rescue wearing a tiara and waving from a parade float. I came in with my two babies — Whisper and Windy — plus sweet Waverly from another litter of mine and their dad, Walker. Yes. It was a whole family situation. We found ourselves in the shelter together, doing our best to stay brave while the world felt very big and very uncertain. And then we got another little curveball after I came into rescue and got checked out by the vet: I am heartworm positive. Now before you panic-scroll — yes, I’m being treated. Yes, the rescue is taking care of me. Yes, I’m going to be just fine. It just means I need some time to heal and rest before I head off to my forever home. My tentative “ready to go be adored” date is around the second week of April. But honestly? That fits me. I’m not a rush-in-headfirst kind of girl. I’m a build-something-meaningful kind of girl. If you are the kind of person who understands that good things take time…If you value depth over drama…If you want a devoted, steady, portable fluffball with a resilient heart and soulful eyes…You could put in an application now and simply wait for me to be medically cleared. Think of it as reserving a very exclusive, very soft, very dignified companion. I do well with other dogs — with one small condition: they must understand that we are not hosting WrestleMania in the living room. I prefer calm, respectful dogs. You know, the emotionally stable ones. The kind who say, “Good morning,” not “LET’S BODY SLAM EACH OTHER OFF THE COUCH.” I am a peaceful coexistence girl. I am here for shared naps. Parallel lounging. Quiet companionship. If I feel safe with a dog, I’ll stay near them. I like having a steady presence around — it makes the world feel a little less overwhelming. What I am not? A high-energy play tornado. If your current dog believes every interaction should end in a WWE-style takedown, I will politely excuse myself and go contemplate life in another room. Think book club, not mosh pit. So yes, I do well with other dogs — especially the mellow, respectful ones who understand that true friendship can absolutely look like quietly existing in the same space without flinging ourselves into furniture. How do I do with cats? I have seen the cat. I have acknowledged the cat. I have decided the cat is… not my business. The cat exists. I also exist. We have agreed to a peaceful treaty. Have I been around kids? No. However. Let us discuss this logically. I am gentle. I am sensitive. So while I haven’t personally clocked hours with small children, I would likely do well with kids who understand concepts like “soft hands” and “inside voices” and “we do not launch ourselves onto the dog like we’re boarding a pirate ship.” Respectful kids? Wonderful. Kids who want to quietly sit near me and maybe read a book while I supervise? Excellent. Tiny tornado humans who shriek, sprint, and treat the living room like a trampoline park? I may politely excuse myself to contemplate my life choices. Energy Level? A solid, dignified, emotionally stable 3. I enjoy a nice stroll. A polite sniff. A moment of light frolicking if the mood strikes. And then? I would very much like to return to my scheduled lounging. I am not here to run marathons. I am not here to train for the Dog Olympics. I am here for balanced living. A little activity. A lot of calm. A strong commitment to conserving energy for meaningful eye contact. If you’re looking for a hiking partner who scales mountains before breakfast, that’s adorable — but I am more “peaceful nature walk followed by reflective sitting.” Adventure-seeker or homebody? Let me answer this with the grace and honesty it deserves. I am a homebody. A refined, comfort-loving, emotionally grounded homebody. I thrive in familiar, secure environments where I know where the couch is, where the water bowl is, and where you are at all times. Predictability? Love it. Routine? Adore it. Controlled, calm surroundings? Chef’s kiss. Could I grow more confident over time? Absolutely. I am a work in thoughtful progress. But will I ever be the dog dragging you into crowded festivals, chaotic breweries, or “pop-up goat yoga in the city square”? Unlikely. How would I describe my overall temperament? Picture this: if a soft acoustic playlist, a weighted blanket, and a wise woodland creature had a meeting… you’d get me. I am gentle in how I move through the world. Sensitive? Yes. Which is just a classy way of saying I actually notice things. Tone shifts. Energy changes. The emotional vibe of the room. I am basically a fluffy emotional barometer. I am deeply soulful. My eyes? They’ve seen things. I am soft in both energy and spirit. I don’t bring chaos. I bring calm presence. I don’t demand constant action. I offer quiet companionship. I do best with consistency, reassurance, and a human who understands that trust is something we grow together — not something you rush because you saw a cute TikTok. Fenced yard or apartment life? I would probably do best with a securely fenced yard that is mine to explore, memorize, and consider part of my emotional support system. I like familiarity. I like routine. I like knowing where my perimeter is. Could I survive leash walks without a fence? Possibly. Would I prefer my own peaceful little kingdom where I can decompress without surprise chaos? Absolutely. I’m not asking for acreage. I’m not demanding a moat (though I would consider it). I just appreciate a calm, predictable outdoor space where I can stretch my legs and then return inside to resume my scheduled lounging. Am I potty trained? Yes. I am a proper lady. Have I been kenneled? No, I have not been kenneled. Now before anyone gasps — this is not a scandal. It just hasn’t been part of my routine. I haven’t needed it. Do I chew on things I shouldn’t? No. I have zero interest in chewing your belongings. I have evolved past that stage of life. I prefer dignified hobbies like lounging, observing, and quietly judging household energy levels. Do I bark? I have not made a single sound since arriving. Now, does that mean I can’t bark? Of course not. I am a dog, not a decorative throw pillow. But thus far, I have chosen peace. I have chosen composure. I have chosen to observe rather than announce. I am very calm. Very quiet. Very much not interested in narrating every leaf that falls outside. If you’re looking for a doorbell replacement, I may disappoint you. If you’re looking for a serene, soft-spoken fluff who doesn’t feel the need to broadcast her opinions at 3 a.m.? I am your girl. So here’s the deal. I am 34 pounds of soulful fluff, emotionally mature energy, and calm companionship. I won’t bulldoze your life — I’ll blend into it in the most beautiful way. I’ll be the soft presence beside you on the couch. The quiet shadow moving from room to room. The steady heartbeat in a sometimes-loud world. Now. Let’s discuss logistics. You cannot simply manifest me with vibes. You must fill out the adoption application. Yes. The whole thing. With effort. Using complete thoughts. So the rescue can send it to my foster family for review. That’s how this works. I am not available via “I’m interested” in the comments. And when you are approved? You will come pick me up in Skiatook. I will not Uber. I will not teleport. I will not meet you “halfway-ish.” Fill out the app at https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app Make the drive. Come get your girl. Softly waiting , Willow Woofington Your Future Peaceful Little Shadow