Puppies and dogs in Jenks, Oklahoma

Rufus is a sweet, loving boy who is 5 years old and will be turning 6 on December 1st. He’s a German Shepherd/Blue Heeler mix with a BIG personality and even bigger energy. ❤️ Since having our baby, we unfortunately haven’t been able to give Rufus the time and activity he deserves. He is a very high-energy dog and would thrive with someone who enjoys an active lifestyle and can take him on regular walks, adventures, and activities. Rufus is trained and knows his commands, although he could use a little continued work. He absolutely LOVES people and sometimes gets so excited to say hello that he jumps up on them. He has a very loving personality and just needs someone who can continue working with him and give him the structure, exercise, and attention he needs. We want to find him a home where he can truly thrive and where his energy can be appreciated rather than feeling like he isn’t getting enough from us. This is a very difficult decision, but we believe finding the right home.

Meet Asha – the ultimate overachiever in the categories of lounging and loving. Asha is what we like to call emotionally available – she’ll bond faster than your last Amazon Prime delivery and loves hard. She’s sweet, gentle, and will follow you around like she’s on a mission to become your shadow’s understudy. Basically, she’s the safe, soft-hearted sidekick you didn’t know you needed… but now can’t imagine life without. She’s the kind of dog who’ll make you feel like the most important person in the world within 3.5 seconds of meeting you — mostly because she’s already decided you’re her emotional support human. Safe? Absolutely. Sweet? To a fault. And once she loves you (which again, takes about the length of one sneeze), you’re stuck. Forever. Like glitter. Meet Asha — a 2-year-old, 63-pound Great Pyrenees whose gentle spirit and loving heart have remained unshaken, even through some incredibly difficult times. Asha came to us from a shelter, where she found herself on the euthanasia list after being left unclaimed—with a large tumor hanging from the side of her face. Despite the pain and confusion, she remained sweet, calm, and affectionate with everyone she met. Thankfully, one of our wonderful foster families stepped up just in time, and thanks to the skill and compassion of our veterinary partners, her tumor was successfully removed. Her incision is nearly fully healed now, and she’s feeling better than ever.Asha is the perfect blend of laid-back and loving. She’s just as happy curling up for a quiet afternoon nap as she is riding shotgun for a treat run. She forms bonds quickly and deeply, offering the kind of unconditional affection that only a rescue dog can. She’s safe. She’s sweet. And she’s ready to write a new chapter—this time with a forever family who sees her for the beautiful soul she truly is. Asha is basically that one friend who gets along with everyone—dogs included. She’s the type who walks into a room, does a polite sniff-around like she’s reading the vibe, and then settles in like she’s always been part of the group. She doesn’t need to be in the middle of the play session, but she likes to know she’s invited. Now, when she first met Major(the resident dog), things were… let’s say tense. He wasn’t thrilled to share the spotlight, but Asha handled it like a total pro—gave him some space, didn’t take his dramatics personally, and let him come around on his own timeline. (He did. He’s obsessed now.) She met a couple of kids recently—ages 8 and 11—and read the room better than most adults. The younger one was clearly a little intimidated by her size (fair, she is part pony), and Asha immediately softened her approach. No jumping, no wild energy—just a slow flop to the floor and a full tummy display, like, “I’m harmless, I promise. You can pet me now.” Cats? She’s seen one. Didn’t chase it, bark at it, or try to interview it. The cat was probably more concerned than she was. Asha just gave it a side glance like, “You do your thing, whiskers. I’ve got naps to take.” And when it comes to grown-ups? Asha thinks you’re great. All of you. She gives a warm, happy greeting without turning into a caffeine-fueled tornado, then politely parks herself nearby in case you feel like giving her some attention. She’s sweet, respectful, and somehow still manages to make every new person feel like they just met their favorite dog. Basically, she’s the total package—diplomatic, affectionate, and socially savvy. Asha’s energy level clocks in at a solid 3 out of 10—which is basically the canine version of a koala crossed with a sleepy golden retriever. If you’re looking for a dog who treats movement as an optional activity unless snacks or car rides are involved, congratulations—you may have just found your soulmate. She’s not going to be your hiking partner for that sunrise summit, but she will accompany you on a leisurely stroll. Despite her preference for lounging, she’s a surprisingly stellar road trip buddy. None of that “panting at every red light” drama here—she's more of a chill co-pilot, gazing out the window like she’s contemplating life’s deeper questions (like why pup cups aren’t free healthcare). With a little help from her doodle foster brother, she’s now a pro car companion—quiet, relaxed, and very pleased to be included. Leash walking? She’s not going to win gold in the Obedience Olympics, but she’s not trying to drag you down the block like a sled dog in the Iditarod either. Unless there’s another dog nearby—then she briefly becomes the mayor of Excitedville. And yes, if she catches a really interesting smell, expect a full-on stubborn statue moment. She’s only been on two “official” walks, but she strutted her stuff like she was auditioning for Dog Bachelor. As for her hobbies, it’s a pretty short list. Napping, cuddling, maybe trying a toy if no one’s watching. She’s dabbled in playtime—it was adorable and slightly awkward, like someone trying yoga for the first time—but she’d honestly prefer a 24/7 petting schedule. She’s not high-maintenance, but she is very in favor of being adored like the majestic, velvet-nosed queen she is.Her temperament? In a word: sweet. In more words: dangerously sweet. She bonds fast, loves hard, and has that “I will imprint on you like a baby duck” energy. She’s smart—like, “quietly outsmarting the humans and pretending she didn’t” smart. Her memory is suspiciously good, so don’t make promises you can’t keep... especially if those promises involve snacks. She absolutely loves being outside, so if you’re apartment-bound with no yard, she’s probably not your girl. She enjoys sunbathing, supervising passersby from a safe distance, and making sure the wind is doing what it’s supposed to. Bottom line: Asha is a low-drama, high-sweetness kind of dog who just wants a soft place to land, a few short adventures, and a lifetime supply of belly rubs. Asha is, in fact, potty trained. She’s polite, dignified, and far too fabulous to do her business indoors like some kind of heathen. As for kenneling... hard no. If you’re looking for a dog who happily trots into a crate and tucks herself in like she’s checking into a cozy doggy hotel, Asha is not your girl. She gave it an honest try—for two nights—and responded with what can only be described as soul-crushing wails straight out of a Victorian ghost story. Not barking. Not whining. Wailing. Like a heartbroken opera singer who lost her will to sing. She sleeps quietly through the night on her bed, doesn’t wander, doesn’t get into things, and generally acts like she’s been free-roaming responsibly her entire life. She doesn’t need a crate to behave—she just needs a home that understands that not every dog finds comfort behind a closed door. So, if you’re thinking of bringing her home and sticking her in a crate while you’re at work—respectfully, don’t. It simply isn't necessary for her. Asha’s barking style? Let’s just say she’s not out here narrating every squirrel movement like a neighborhood gossip, but she will absolutely sound the alarm if something seems off. Suspicious noise outside? Bark. Mailman approaching? Bark. Ghostly presence from another dimension? Possibly bark, just to be safe. She saves the big, dramatic barks for things she deems truly important(although you may not always agree on the level of importance)—like potential intruders, strange sounds, or, you know, a plastic bag blowing across the yard with malicious intent. When she’s bored or just wants a little attention, she tones it down to more of a low rumble or cute little "notice me" bark—kind of like she’s trying to keep it professional but still get her point across. If you’ve made it this far and are thinking, “Wow, this majestic land cloud sounds perfect”—you’re absolutely right. But before you go planning matching outfits and road trips, there’s one small catch: you’ll need to fill out an adoption application at https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app (yes, we require paperwork—because this girl doesn't just deserve a home...she deserves the PYRfect home), and you'll need to come pick her up in Moore, Oklahoma. That’s right—no shipping, no teleportation, no Uber for dogs. Just you, your car, and the open road leading to the best decision you’ll ever make. Don’t worry—she’ll make it worth the drive.

Say hello to Crickette, aka Emmie! Those ears are not merely ears. They are federally unregulated listening devices capable of detecting a cheese wrapper beneath three blankets during a thunderstorm. Her amber eyes can locate the softest person in any room, and her fluffy black-and-white coat makes her look like someone dropped an Oreo into a basket of clean laundry and it came out alive. She is a 2.5-year-old, 52-pound Shepherd/Husky mix with a smile like she has just been informed that every Friday is now Casual Friday and pants are no longer required. Crickette is sweeter than finding money in your winter coat and more affectionate than an aunt who hasn’t seen you since you were “this big.” She loves her people with the intensity of someone who has only recently discovered people and cannot believe everyone else has been keeping them from her. Crickette is wonderfully people-oriented and believes personal space is a sad little myth invented by anti-social cats. Her clever little brain is always working, although “working” may be a generous description. It’s more like a Roomba bouncing enthusiastically between seventeen different thoughts. She’ll begin by investigating a noise, remember that you exist, hurry over for affection, spot a dust particle behaving suspiciously and then stand in the middle of the room looking thrilled with herself. Did she accomplish anything? No. Did she give it everything she had? Absolutely. And when her busy little mind finally clocks out for the evening, Crickette settles into the loveliest cuddlebug. She becomes 52 pounds of warm, velvety comfort. 📍 Pickup Location: Broken Arrow, OK -Adopter will need to pick up in person if approved. We do not do transports. 📝 Apply here: https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app Crickette’s story started out a little differently than most. Before discovering the wonders of indoor living, she spent the first part of her life as a stray, surviving with her own wits and resourcefulness. While other dogs were debating whether the orthopedic bed or the couch offered better lumbar support, Crickette was handling her own security, grocery shopping, and neighborhood surveillance. She has only been enjoying indoor family life for about six months, and she has embraced it like a grandmother discovering online shopping. Regular meals? Add to cart. Air conditioning? Subscribe and save. Soft beds? She’ll take three. People telling her she is precious for doing absolutely nothing? Finally, a compensation package that reflects her value. Some of those survival instincts are still very much on duty. Crickette notices every sound, movement, and woodland creature with the intensity of a detective who has been assigned the biggest case of her career. Squirrels, rabbits, snakes and skinks are not simply animals—they are suspects. She does well on her leash until one appears, at which point her inner wildlife correspondent begins broadcasting live from the scene. She needs someone strong enough to manage her, continue working on redirection and remind her that the neighborhood squirrel population has survived perfectly well without her direct involvement. A large, very securely fenced yard is essential, and she must be supervised outside. Crickette has jumped a six-foot privacy fence in pursuit of a squirrel because apparently gravity is merely a rumor when you are emotionally invested. She can spring upward like a piece of toast ejecting from an industrial toaster, except the toast is furry, athletic and yelling internally about rodents. She is roughly 60% adventure seeker and 40% homebody. She would happily explore trails, sniff new places and investigate why that bush smells different from the other seventeen bushes. Then she would like to return home, stretch out near her people and enjoy the kind of luxurious relaxation normally associated with retired heiresses and cats who have never contributed financially. Busy places can make her more guarded, so she needs someone willing to help her experience new environments without expecting her to stroll through a farmers market like a retired golden retriever named Walter. Unexpected sights can sometimes activate her Shepherd security system. A bicycle passing close by or a man jogging at night may earn a suspicious response. Honestly, a grown adult running voluntarily after dark without being chased is unusual behavior, and Crickette would simply like to know who authorized it. Crickette loves car rides. Getting into the vehicle, however, depends entirely on whether she remembers how cars work that day. Sometimes she jumps in like a seasoned road-trip influencer. Other times she stares at the open door as though it is a portal to another dimension. Indoors, Crickette becomes an affectionate little shadow wearing an oversized pair of ears. She follows her foster around, observes dinner preparation and settles nearby like a tiny restaurant critic waiting to see whether the chef plans to drop anything. She is not begging. She is maintaining quality standards. If asked to wait outside the bedroom or bathroom, she will politely sit or lie down—as long as the door is closed. Leave it open and she assumes your request has expired. Why would anyone want bathroom privacy when they could have two amber eyes watching them with the tenderness of a nurse, the concern of a life coach and the judgment of a tax auditor? She generally enjoys meeting people and has happily accepted attention from neighborhood children ages five and eight. Her tail sweeps the ground as they approach, presumably dusting the sidewalk as a complimentary service. Because she can become excited, having her sit before greeting smaller children is best. Crickette absolutely loves other dogs. The moment she finds a willing playmate, her whole face lights up, her legs forget they have joints and she becomes 52 pounds of delighted black-and-white confetti. A playful, energetic dog in her forever home would be Crickette’s dream come true. She needs a canine companion who sees her approaching at full wiggle and thinks, “Excellent—the entertainment has arrived.” A dog who enjoys daily games would help keep her busy, burn off that energy reserve and redirect her attention away from her unpaid position as Oklahoma’s Chief Squirrel Pursuit Officer. She can become loud or overly excited when she sees dogs while restrained on a leash. Sometimes Crickette simply experiences the emotional devastation of seeing a possible new best friend while being prevented from immediately launching the friendship interview. With thoughtful introductions, a well-matched playmate and continued calm guidance, she is a social, playful girl who is happiest when another dog joins her nonsense. Cats, however, need not apply. Crickette is specifically recruiting a dog sibling: not a strange-looking squirrel with knives on its paws. Crickette enjoys toys and plays fetch…mostly. Sometimes she retrieves the ball. Sometimes she watches it land and looks back at you as if to say, “That was yours. You threw it. I believe this is a natural-consequences situation.” Still, she usually participates because supporting your strange little hobbies is one of the ways she shows love. Puzzle toys, snuffle mats, scent games and training exercises are excellent for her. She could be wonderful at agility or scent work. She is potty trained, rarely barks and does not chew inappropriate things. At bedtime, she happily enters her crate with a treat-filled Kong and her favorite little red stuffed football. Crickette is looking for someone who wants a brilliant, affectionate adventure buddy, a world-class cuddler and a 52-pound neighborhood watch program with satellite dishes for ears. She’ll fill your days with laughter, keep your heart full and ensure no squirrel, snack wrapper or unattended bathroom trip goes unnoticed. If Crickette sounds like your kind of delightfully nosy little cinnamon roll, please fill out an adoption application. Yes, the entire application. Her foster family needs more than “I have always wanted a Husky” and a profile picture from 2017 to determine whether you are her perfect match. Once submitted, we’ll send your application to her foster family for review. If approved, you must travel to Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, to pick her up. Crickette cannot be shipped, delivered by stork or launched toward you using those enormous ears—although aerodynamically, we admit it looks possible. 📝 Apply here: https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app

Introducing Amadeus—because apparently someone took one of those giant stuffed bears from the fair, made it even fluffier, gave it four legs, and installed the gentlest soul imaginable. He’s a 3.5-year-old, 102-pound Great Pyrenees, which means yes, he is a lot of dog. Yes, he is a lot of fluff. And yes, you will look at him and think, “I need to hug that immediately.” Unlike the fair-prize bear you spent $47 trying to win before carrying home like an awkward piece of furniture, Amadeus is real, sweet, and capable of loving you back. His foster describes him as a gentle soul, which feels almost unfair. A walking teddy bear and a sweetheart? Sir, please leave some appeal for the other dogs. If you’ve ever wished that giant fair bear could climb down from the shelf and become your best friend, Amadeus would like a word. Preferably while you’re hugging him. 👉 Apply to adopt Amadeus: https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app 📍Amadeus is being fostered in Cypress, TX. His adopter must personally pick him up there. We do not transport. Amadeus does well with other dogs, but he likes to begin new friendships with a brief evaluation period. He can be shy and reserved when they first meet. A friendly, gentle dog who gives him a little space will usually find that he warms up fairly quickly, and once he’s comfortable, he loves playing and spending time with his new friend. He would enjoy having another dog in his forever home, but he’s also perfectly happy being the only one. Amadeus doesn’t need another dog to complete him, but he’d be perfectly happy to share his home with one. He just isn’t looking for a roommate who operates in permanent rubber-ball mode, thinks Amadeus’s personal space is a community resource, and interprets “I’d like to lie down” as an invitation to wrestle. Give him a friendly dog who can say hello, let him warm up, and occasionally enjoy a good game without treating every waking moment like a puppy birthday party. Amadeus is a dignified teddy bear, not a wind-up monkey with cymbals—and he would appreciate a friend who understands the difference. He currently lives with two cats and gets along with them great. Amadeus has apparently expressed an interest in playing, while the cats have expressed an interest in absolutely anything else. He accepts this diplomatic setback without chasing or bothering them. Consider the size difference here: he is 102 pounds of Great Pyrenees, and they are tiny creatures with knives attached to their feet. Amadeus has wisely concluded that being enormous does not exempt him from respecting the cats’ boundaries. Children bring out his especially tender side. Amadeus has been around kids of all ages, including newborns through four-year-olds in his current home. His foster says he has always been incredibly patient and gentle with them, keeps a watchful eye on the little ones, and happily soaks up their cuddles. He is the sort of dog who looks like a storybook guardian came to life, except this guardian would also appreciate someone scratching behind his ears. A calmer home would suit him best, and he can do well with younger children who are gentle and respectful of his space. He’s a loving family dog, but even the world’s nicest 102-pound teddy bear deserves a chance to nap without somebody using him as playground equipment. When Amadeus meets new people, he doesn’t immediately hand over the keys to his heart. First comes a sniff. Then perhaps a thoughtful pause while he reviews your qualifications. If you offer pets and attention, though, he usually warms up pretty quickly. Once he knows you, he is loving and enjoys being around you. He’s not trying to play hard to get; he’s simply a gentle fellow who likes a minute to decide whether the new human is as nice as they seem. Spoiler: if you’re kind to him, your application for friendship has an excellent chance of being approved. After all, he is a Great Pyrenees not a Golden Retriever that could literally be dog-napped and still smother their dognapper in kisses. For all his impressive size, Amadeus is only about a 3/10 on the energy scale. That does not mean he intends to spend his entire life lying in one spot while you dust around him. He loves walks, enjoys hikes, and is fantastic on a leash. He’s a lovely companion for getting out and doing things, provided the itinerary also includes returning home, finding a comfortable place to lie down, and doing absolutely nothing for a while. He is both adventure buddy and homebody: ready to accompany you on a hike, then equally ready to become a very large floor ornament while everyone recovers. With 102 pounds to carry around, he has earned his downtime. He likes toys and enjoys fetch, too. This means you get the entertaining sight of a giant fluffy bear trotting after a toy with genuine enthusiasm, followed by the realization that he is somehow both majestic and ridiculous at the same time. Whether he’d enjoy playing in water is still unknown. Perhaps he’s a future swimming enthusiast. Perhaps he’ll take one look at a kiddie pool and file a formal complaint. That mystery remains for another day. Amadeus is excellent on walks, but car rides require a little more understanding. He does fine in the car, though longer trips can make him anxious, and he may need help getting in. Picture asking a 102-pound dog to fold himself neatly into a vehicle while remaining emotionally composed about the whole experience. He’ll appreciate patience, encouragement, and reassurance instead of a rushed “Come on, buddy!” while you contemplate whether you should have brought a loading ramp and two assistants. Loud noises can worry him, and he is not a fan of the vacuum cleaner. To be fair, the vacuum is a loud machine whose entire job is to patrol the house eating his fluff. His suspicion is understandable. Around the house, Amadeus has many excellent habits. He’s potty trained. He doesn’t chew things he shouldn’t, hasn’t shown any food or resource guarding, and hasn’t demonstrated a secret ambition to escape and tour the neighborhood. He doesn’t get on the couch, which is fortunate because at his size, “Amadeus on the couch” would mean the rest of the family needs new seating arrangements. He sleeps on a pet bed or the floor, presumably wherever he can stretch out and briefly convince passersby that someone left a bear rug in the hallway. He hasn’t been kenneled, so we don’t know how he would feel about a crate. A fenced yard would work for Amadeus, but he can also do well without one as long as he gets regular leash walks. He enjoys getting out with his people and has no known escape-artist tendencies. His one notable household announcement is barking when someone comes to the door or drops off a package. The delivery driver may think they are leaving a box unnoticed. Amadeus believes every incoming cardboard shipment deserves a press conference. He is, after all, a Great Pyrenees, and someone has to inform management that the porch has an intruder. Amadeus’s ideal family will appreciate the whole wonderful package: a giant, gentle dog who loves children, gets along with cats, can make friends with other dogs, enjoys walks and hikes, and treasures his quiet time at home. They’ll give him a little patience with introductions, car rides, and noisy things, and in return they’ll get a loyal, affectionate companion who is happiest being loved and included. Another gentle dog would be lovely, but he would also be delighted to receive all the attention himself. His perfect day isn’t complicated: a good walk, maybe a game of fetch, plenty of cuddles, and a peaceful place to recharge beside his people. So if you ever stared up at the giant bear at the fair and thought, “I would spend an unreasonable amount of money trying to take you home,” we have remarkable news. Amadeus is softer, sweeter, and considerably better company. You don’t have to win him with a carnival game. You just have to be the family who gives this gentle giant the love and forever home he deserves. If you’d like to bring him home, please fill out an adoption application so we can send it to his foster family. Yes, the actual application. Commenting “I NEED HIM” is understandable and, frankly, correct, but it does not tell his foster family where their beloved 102-pound house bear will be living. If you’re approved, you’ll need to pick Amadeus up in person in Cypress, Texas. He will not be mailed, delivered by carnival prize booth, or placed in an oversized box marked “FRAGILE: CONTAINS ONE VERY GOOD BOY.” 👉 Apply to adopt Amadeus: https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app 📍Amadeus is being fostered in Cypress, TX. His adopter must personally pick him up there. We do not transport.

Meet Fred, a 7-month-old, 70-pound Great Pyrenees mix. Fred has a stunning badger face, a gorgeous coat, and the sort of enormous, huggable appearance that makes strangers forget they were on their way somewhere. You might leave the house thinking you’re taking a quick walk. That’s adorable. Fred will be taking a leisurely stroll with scheduled stops for admiration, compliments, and at least one person "jokingly" asking if they can take him home. And then they’ll pet him. That’s when the real questioning begins: “Where did you get him?” “Is he always this calm?” “How is he so sweet?” Fred will answer by leaning against your leg like a 70-pound marshmallow who has never heard of personal space. He’s a big, goofy, lovable dork who wants to be right by your side, soaking up attention as if it’s his full-time job. So yes, Fred will slow down your outings. He’ll also make them considerably sweeter—and probably introduce you to the neighbors you have lived next to for years now but have yet to actually speak to. 👉 Apply to adopt Fred: https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app 📍Fred is being fostered in Norman, OK. His adopter must personally pick him up there. We do not transport. Now, before you start picturing Fred holding court outside every coffee shop in town, his foster would like to add a small footnote: Fred is still learning that the big world is safe. He may someday become the local celebrity who turns every five-minute errand into a meet-and-greet, but right now he’s much more comfortable being adored at home. There is one small detail to that vision: Fred is not ready for the grand public tour just yet. He’s still learning that the world beyond his familiar surroundings is safe. New places, loud noises, and car rides make him nervous. He’s curious—often the first of the two brothers to investigate something new—but he needs patient people who will let him work up the courage on his own timetable. When he feels comfortable, Fred is a big, goofy, lovable dork and an enthusiastic collector of human attention. He wants to be by your side at all times, preferably close enough that moving to another room becomes a joint decision. He’ll follow you around like a 70-pound shadow with a spectacular coat and a firm belief that you might require supervision while loading the dishwasher. Walk away from him and he may whine a little, because apparently nobody explained to Fred that humans occasionally have other obligations. He enjoys meeting new people, though he may begin with a little caution while he decides what they’re about. Once he feels safe, he is delighted to be the center of attention and will accept pets until the volunteer petting staff needs a break. Fred has no such need. Fred is available. Fred currently plays well with his brother George and looks to him for comfort. His foster feels Fred would benefit from a home with another dog, and we agree that a compatible canine companion could help this cautious boy feel more at ease. He has not met other dogs yet because he had not received immunizations at the time of his foster’s evaluation, so we can’t claim he’ll be instant best friends with every dog he encounters. Based on his playful relationship with George and his cautious approach to new things, we’d expect Fred to appreciate calm, thoughtful introductions and a dog who gives him space to settle in versus a dog who greets him by performing a flying tackle and licking the inside of his ear. As for cats—those tiny creatures with knives on their feet—Fred has not met any in foster care. His gentle nature gives us reason to hope he could learn to share space with one, but a cat’s reaction to a 70-pound puppy is its own separate and usually strongly worded opinion. Any introduction would need to be slow and carefully supervised. We cannot promise Fred will know what to make of a cat, or that a cat will appreciate discovering Fred in its living room. Fred hasn’t met children while in foster care, so we don’t yet know how he’ll do with them. Because he’s on the nervous side, calmer kiddos who are old enough to understand that he may need time to feel at home would likely be the best fit. Fred would appreciate a gentle welcome and the chance to approach on his own terms. Arriving to find a screaming dance party, a child doing cartwheels, and someone attempting to crown him King of the Fluff would be a lot for him to process before he’s even located the water bowl. Give this sweet boy a little breathing room, and he can show the family just how lovable and goofy he is. Fred’s energy is about a 4 out of 10, making him an excellent match for people who enjoy a bit of play without having to organize an entire athletic program around their dog. He likes toys, especially the kind he can chew, and he is quite good at his puzzle toy. There’s a clever little brain under all that impressive fluff. He’ll also fetch once or twice before losing interest. From Fred’s perspective, he has already proven he can retrieve the object. Repeating the exercise seems like something you should discuss with your own therapist. Walks are currently an aspiration rather than an activity. When Fred is put on a leash, he may tense up, try to retreat, or sit down and become a very beautiful, very immovable lawn ornament. His foster hasn’t yet been able to take him on a walk. He’ll need someone willing to help him build confidence at his own pace. A securely fenced yard is a must so he can enjoy being outside without having to face the leash every time nature calls. An apartment would not be a good fit for Fred right now. Car rides are another work in progress. He needs help getting into the car because new experiences worry him. Once aboard for the drive from Hominy to Norman, though, he slept most of the way. Now and then he stood up to request pets or offer kisses to the driver. He may have been nervous about the journey, but apparently he still found time to check on the chauffeur. Inside, Fred is potty trained and working on sit, come, and stay. He understands what his foster means; he’s still polishing the part where his enormous puppy body follows through. He does well overall in his crate and will go in on his own. He sleeps there at night and stays there when his foster is away. He may cry when the crate door closes and his person walks away, even with George nearby. Fred objects to any household policy that places his favorite human out of reach and would like to speak to whoever wrote it. Fred barks when he sees wildlife or people while he’s in the yard. The squirrel has crossed into view, and Fred feels the household deserves to know. He also gives quieter, playful barks when he wants attention. Think less emergency siren, more a very fluffy customer tapping the service bell because nobody has complimented him in eleven minutes. He has shown no food or resource guarding and no escape-artist tendencies. Fred’s ideal family has a steady routine, a securely fenced yard, another compatible dog, and the patience to help him through puppyhood. He needs people who will work with him on leash skills, give him time with new experiences, and understand that confidence grows at Fred’s speed. His foster wants adopters who are fully committed to helping him through his puppy habits and fears, even when he looks big enough to have all of life figured out. He does not. He is seven months old. He just happens to be seven months old in the body of a small, particularly handsome bear. What Fred does have figured out is that he loves being close to his people. Beneath that incredible coat and those cautious first impressions is a sweet, curious, funny boy who wants to trust you, follow you, play beside you, and accept an absolutely unreasonable number of pets. Give him the time to feel safe, and you’ll discover just how much love can fit inside a 70-pound badger-faced teddy bear. If you’re ready to be Fred’s person, fill out an adoption application so we can send it to his foster family. Yes, the actual application. Not a comment saying “Interested,” not a message asking us to hold him while you locate your calendar, and not a compelling account of the Great Pyrenees your aunt’s neighbor owned in 1998. His foster family knows Fred best and will help decide whether your home is the right fit for this handsome, tenderhearted goof. If approved, you’ll need to pick Fred up in person in Norman, Oklahoma. He will not be shipped, delivered, teleported, or dispatched to your doorstep inside an enormous box labeled “FRAGILE: CONTAINS FEELINGS.” You’ll have to come meet him, give him a little time, and take your new best friend home yourself. Fred thinks that sounds like a very good start. 👉 Apply to adopt Fred: https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app 📍Fred is being fostered in Norman, OK. His adopter must personally pick him up there. We do not transport.

Introducing Loghan! First of all, can we discuss the fact that Loghan is a Golden Retriever/Cocker Spaniel mix? A GOLDEN. With a little COCKER SPANIEL. Somebody took a dog practically made of sunshine, good intentions, and conditioner, added a generous helping of devoted little sidekick, and created 46 pounds of “well, there goes my entire heart.” This is a Golden with the serving size adjusted. A fun-sized ray of sunshine. A butterscotch snack cake who would like to know why you’re reading this when you could be rubbing his ears. Goldens already bring a pretty impressive package: that outgoing charm, a wonderful temperament, and a gorgeous golden coat that makes them look like they’ve been personally sponsored by autumn. Then you sprinkle in some Cocker Spaniel loyalty and a smaller size, and you get Loghan—a cutie patootie who looks like a toasted marshmallow. Loghan is 12 years old, and before anyone dramatically clutches their pearls and backs toward the puppy aisle, please put the pearls down. This boy is not a sack of potatoes with a forwarding address. He still loves following his people around and going on adventures. You’re heading into another room? Wonderful. He’s on the committee. We’re going somewhere? Excellent. His calendar just opened up. Apparently, twelve years of being adorable has not exhausted his enthusiasm for accompanying a human who may eventually produce snacks. He does appreciate a good nap, because he has the wisdom to understand that you can love an adventure and love lying down afterward. Honestly, that’s less “senior dog” and more “the entire adult population after a trip to Target.” 👉 Apply to adopt Loghan: https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app 📍Loghan is being fostered in Yukon, OK. His adopter must personally pick him up there. We do not transport. His foster describes him as quirky, sweet, lovable, and happy, which makes him sound like a beloved grandpa who accidentally ordered seventeen pounds of Werther’s Originals and sees absolutely no problem with that. He adores his people and takes receiving affection very seriously. Under all that golden sweetness is a boy who has experienced a heartbreaking change. Loghan came to us after his owner passed away—the person he had been with since he was only 10 weeks old. Nearly twelve years of growing up together, sharing routines, and belonging to each other. He never expected to be looking for a new family, and we wish he didn’t have to. But this happy little gentleman still has love to give, adventures to join, and naps to take near someone who makes him feel safe. He’s a soft, golden reminder of how lovely it is to have somebody who thinks your ordinary Tuesday is worth tagging along for. And if that somebody happens to resemble a fluffy biscuit with twelve years of professional cuddling experience? Well. Try to contain yourselves for this gem of a boy. Now, living with Loghan means accepting that you have acquired a 46-pound golden assistant who considers your personal space a shared community resource. Going to the bathroom? He’ll accompany you. Cooking dinner? He’ll be stationed underfoot, either napping or monitoring the floor for falling ingredients. Someone has to oversee quality control, and apparently your qualifications are questionable. When company arrives, Loghan may announce them with a bark, but once they’re inside, he switches to sniffs, kisses, and a very direct request for affection. Specifically, scratches right above his tail. You could have known this dog for twelve years or twelve seconds; either way, he will present his backside like he’s backing a delivery truck into the loading dock. “Wonderful to meet you. The petting department is located in the rear.” Loghan’s relationship with other dogs is best described as a sweet little grandpa who enjoys company but would prefer nobody arrive with a trampoline and three energy drinks. He’s interested in meeting them, happy to sniff, and willing to exchange the customary dog information. After that, he would appreciate everyone returning to their own bodies. Friendship is lovely. Someone else’s nose parked in his ear canal is a zoning violation. He occasionally barks at and herds his foster’s male Pyrenees, because apparently someone needs to supervise that enormous walking duvet, and Loghan has appointed himself Assistant Manager of Please Stand Somewhere Else. Forty-six pounds of golden biscuit trying to direct a Pyrenees is quite the management structure, but he remains committed to the position. A canine companion who understands the joy of peacefully existing nearby without making every interaction a mandatory wrestling tournament would be wonderful. He could also be happy as an only dog, receiving all the pets without having to take a number. This tender little fellow just wants to feel secure, have his space respected, and know there’s a human hand available when he needs reassurance. Cats are still a question mark. Loghan saw some at the groomer, but he was busy trying to leave, so his attention was less “What fascinating creatures” and more “My feet have been trimmed. Why are we still in this establishment?” The cats could have been balancing the books or operating a tiny forklift, and he was still going to prioritize finding the door. Children, meanwhile, have already discovered that Loghan is sweet, affectionate, and wildly unqualified to calculate the carrying capacity of a lap. He met kids ages five and seven, greeted them excitedly, gave kisses, and then climbed straight into the seven-year-old’s lap on the couch. He sometimes jumps when excited, too, so older, dog-savvy children who can comfortably handle his size would be the better fit. He enjoys affection, but very busy young children can overwhelm him. Younger kids may be fine for short visits, but a home full of constant little-kid commotion would be a lot for him. Loghan would love gentle companions who offer pets, appreciate his kisses, and let him rest when he’s had enough excitement. He has plenty of sweetness to share. He just prefers his family time with a side of peace and quiet, rather than an unscheduled performance of Twenty-Seven Reasons We’re Screaming. Loghan clocks in at a 6 out of 10 on the energy scale. He enjoys being active, taking walks, and going places with his person, but he also loves relaxing at home. A pleasant outing followed by a nap is very much his speed. A lengthy hike involving elevation charts, survival whistles, and somebody saying, “Only four more miles”? Please remove him from that group chat. Loghan enjoys the backyard and walks, so a securely fenced yard is welcome but not required with regular leash outings. He does prefer his human to accompany him for potty breaks and stay until he is finished. Congratulations: you have been appointed his Bathroom Buddy. It is an unpaid position, but the benefits include golden fluff and the satisfaction of being considered essential personnel. He generally does his business and wants right back inside rather than spending a long time in the yard alone. He hasn’t shown escape-artist tendencies. His main destination is usually wherever his person went. Inside, Loghan is delighted to participate in your daily life. Bathroom trip? He’ll come. Kitchen duty? He’ll supervise. He may nap beneath your feet while you cook, monitor for falling crumbs, or make himself available for taste testing. You finally have someone who believes watching you stir a saucepan is a worthwhile evening plan. Granted, there may be food involved, but let’s appreciate the companionship. Loghan has been a beautifully mannered boy. He is potty trained and has never had an accident in his foster home. He doesn’t chew things he shouldn’t, has shown no food or resource guarding, and has done well with free roam of the house while his foster family is away. No furniture demolition. No shoe autopsies. No surprise installation of an indoor bathroom. The gentleman comes with experience. He knows sit, down, shake, off, and “no.” A handsome face, affectionate personality, and actual qualifications. Meanwhile, several of us still need three reminders to move the laundry to the dryer. Loghan used a kennel in his previous home, mainly as an open safe space, and was rarely shut inside. His foster set one up when he arrived, but he only voluntarily went in once and used it for a couple of meals. Since he otherwise wasn’t using it, they took it down. He has kennel familiarity, but his current routine has been free roam, which he has handled without naughty behavior. Loghan also has a complete cataract in one eye and a partial cataract in the other, so his vision is limited, especially at night. His foster thinks turning his head to look sideways helps him see better. It also gives him the appearance of a little golden judge reviewing your explanation for eating an entire sandwich without sharing with him. The moment the leash comes out, Loghan acts like someone on a cruise ship was told that there will be unlimited shrimp on the fiesta deck. He loves walks, but may pull some in an effort to ensure that everything is sniffed properly. Walking Loghan is more of a leisurely endeavor than a "quick" walk around the block. Walking beside him can feel like escorting a very fluffy detective who keeps discovering new evidence. You’re trying to reach the corner. Loghan is trying to determine who visited this hydrant, what they had for lunch, and whether their statement requires a rebuttal. With that said, Loghan is uncomfortable being kept on a leash inside unfamiliar buildings and gravitates toward the exit. He has the social stamina of someone who’s taken off their coat, discovered this is a timeshare presentation, and immediately put their coat back on. Small outings can be lovely, but he appreciates keeping them manageable. Loghan currently jumps into the car himself, like a gentleman who heard someone mention getting lunch and doesn’t intend to be left behind. Once aboard, he may be a little nervous although he doesn't get carsick. If your home could use a golden little shadow with excellent house manners, a sweet heart, and a firm belief that every trip to the kitchen deserves an escort, Loghan would love to be your boy. He brings gentle adventures, happy greetings, cozy companionship, and twelve years of experience making somebody feel loved. All he asks is a patient family, a reassuring routine, and regular maintenance scratches above his tail. Apparently, that’s where the happiness button is located. Fill out an adoption application so we can send it to his foster family for review: https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app Yes, the whole application. “I love him” is a wonderful beginning, but we’ll need slightly more information before appointing you Official Keeper of the Butterscotch Gentleman. If approved, you’ll need to pick Loghan up in Yukon, Oklahoma. He will not arrive by Golden Grandpa Express, parachute into your backyard, or materialize when you shake a bag of shredded cheese. You’ll need to come get your new best friend in person. After losing the person he’d loved since puppyhood, Loghan deserves to hear “Let’s go home, buddy” and discover that he belongs again. Somewhere soft to nap. Someone to follow. A familiar hand reaching down to pet him. And, ideally, someone whose cheese occasionally falls on the floor.