Great Pyrenees puppies and dogs in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma

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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.

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 Nelly—because apparently someone made a cookies-and-cream dessert, added a gorgeous badger face, and then covered the entire thing in enough fluff to invalidate the serving suggestion. Nelly is a 3-year-old, 70-pound female Great Pyrenees mix, and can we please take a moment to appreciate this masterpiece? The black-and-white face. The dark markings sprinkled throughout that gorgeous white coat. The overall appearance of an Oreo cheesecake that has developed legs and would very much appreciate your admiration. Finally, one of your favorite desserts is available in a version that is substantially fluffier, considerably more fun to whisper sweet endearments to, and likely to leave evidence of itself on every pair of black pants you own. Beneath all that spectacular packaging is a tenderhearted girl whose sweetness currently comes with a very cautious opening procedure. Nelly wants affection. She wants cuddles. She wants to belong. She just needs some time to realize everything is okay. Nelly was found over a year ago and stayed with her finders until they could no longer care for her. She arrived in our care with numerous intestinal parasites and tested positive for heartworms. That is a lot for one girl to carry beneath her cookie-crumble couture. She has been treated for the parasites and is currently undergoing heartworm treatment. We are estimating she should be ready to go home around the first week of November. 📝 Apply here: https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app 📍 Yukon, OK -Her adopter must pick her up in person at her foster location. We do not transport. Nelly likes other dogs, but she would appreciate friends who understand that she arrived with the confidence of someone walking into the wrong classroom halfway through a presentation. She and Kannoli get along just fine. Kannoli has apparently passed the vibe check and been approved by Nelly’s Department of Please Be Nice to Me. Carlos and Anna, meanwhile, have picked up on her nervousness and bullied her some, which is rather rude considering Nelly is clearly a cookies-and-cream cupcake trying to figure out this new world. The sweetest part? She wants to join in. She wants to play with Anna, although Anna is still considering the invitation. Nelly is essentially standing there holding a friendship bracelet in her mouth while Anna says she’ll check her calendar. She also wants to run the fence line with the others. You can practically see her thinking, “Oh! We’re running? I like running! I could run!” Then she thinks about it, thinks about it some more, opens seventeen mental browser tabs, and ultimately decides she should probably sit this one out. The desire to join in is there. but by the time the paperwork clears, everyone else has finished and gone inside. Somewhere beneath that magnificent cookie-crumble coat is a girl who wants to be included so badly—she just needs to know the invitation is sincere. A patient, compatible dog could be a lovely friend for her: someone who lets her take her time, welcomes her little attempts at play, and doesn’t make walking through the living room feel like approaching the popular table in middle school. She doesn’t need a canine life coach blowing a whistle and yelling, “GET OUT THERE, NELLY!” She needs the dog equivalent of someone scooting over and saying, “Saved you a seat.” Cats are currently an unanswered question because Nelly’s foster home does not have any. We therefore cannot tell you what she thinks about sharing her home with a tiny landlord who pays no bills, knocks things off counters, and considers sustained eye contact a disciplinary hearing. Nelly is still gathering the courage to join the dogs at recess; we cannot assume she is ready for an unsolicited performance review from someone who poops in a box and somehow runs the entire household. With children, Nelly does have some encouraging history. Her previous caregivers said she was wonderful with their 2-year-old. She has not been around children in her current foster home, though, and sudden movements still frighten her. That matters because toddlers tend to move like someone released a squirrel into a pair of overalls. One minute they are quietly examining a cracker; the next, they are sprinting down the hallway announcing that their sock is wrong. Nelly would appreciate children who can give her space, use gentle hands, and allow her to approach rather than launching themselves toward her fluff like she is the last Squishmallow at a clearance sale. Her previous friendship with a little one is lovely to hear, but her next family will still need to supervise interactions and let those relationships develop slowly. No chasing her into her safe spot, surprise hugs, or using her as a furry climbing wall. When it comes to meeting new people, Nelly would like to be your friend. She is essentially 70 pounds of “I brought you a friendship bracelet, but I’m going to leave it over here until we know each other better.” The sweetness is there. The desire for cuddles is there. Her courage is still...building. On her first day, she stayed in her corner. Since then, she has been venturing out a little at a time, coming a few feet closer as she works up the nerve. Even after a week, a quick movement can send her back to her safe spot. She wants pets and affection, but she needs time to trust the person offering them. You can practically hear the negotiations: “You seem nice. I do like your snacks. Your lap has potential. Treats appear to be a promising way to win her over, because apparently her security department accepts cheese as a character reference. Sit quietly, let her choose to come closer, and give her time to discover that your hands deliver good things. Every little approach is this tender girl gathering up her courage and saying, “Okay…maybe you could be my person.” Nelly’s energy level is an easy 4 out of 10, and she is a homebody at heart. Her preferred social calendar has plenty of room for spending time with her people and very little pressure to become a local celebrity. Some dogs want hiking trips, crowded patios, and matching adventure gear. Nelly would like a comfortable home, a familiar yard, and someone who appreciates that spending the afternoon together is already a perfectly respectable plan. Honestly, a girl who comes beautifully dressed and doesn’t expect you to leave the house? There is considerable appeal here. Nelly is interested in toys, and you can see little glimpses of her playful side trying to peek out. She wants to join the fun; she is just still working up the confidence to fully participate. Think of someone who insists they don’t dance, then starts doing a tiny shoulder shimmy when their favorite song comes on. We see you, Nelly. That toy caught your eye. There is absolutely a silly girl underneath all that cookie-and-cream fluff. Her feelings about fetch and playing in water are still unknown. We cannot promise she will return a tennis ball, although owning a Great Pyrenees mix generally means accepting that your requests may be forwarded to a committee anyway. She enjoys running in the yard, where her foster has seen her looking happy and free. Those moments are especially sweet because you get to see her confidence coming through. On a leash, Nelly does okay, although she spends much of the outing looking around and keeping track of what is happening. A securely fenced yard is a must for Nelly. It gives her a familiar place to potty, stretch her legs, and enjoy those happy little runs without depending on leash walks for every outing. Her foster does not recommend an apartment for her current needs. This girl would appreciate a home where going outside can be simple and comfortable—and where she can enjoy being a beautifully marbled lawn ornament before deciding to add a little motion. Inside the house, Nelly appears mostly potty trained. Her first few days came with some accidents because she wasn’t yet comfortable going outside, so her foster’s husband carried her out and back in. Some girls get flowers. Nelly got round-trip transportation to the grass from a man willing to carry an entire dessert buffet. Honestly, the bar has been raised. Her fosters have also helped by opening the back door and stepping away so she has a clear path to head out herself. Sometimes a girl just needs a little privacy to handle her business without someone hovering like a restaurant employee waiting to clear her plate. Her new family should expect to help her learn their routine and allow for some adjustment time. She is not established as crate trained. Her foster offered a crate, Nelly chose not to enter, and they respected her decision. In fairness, squeezing seventy pounds of cookies-and-cream into accommodations requires careful consideration of both the cookies and the cream. If her adopter wants to introduce a crate, it will need to happen gradually and positively. When her foster family is away, Nelly roams the house. They have only left her for a few hours at a time, so longer absences are still unknown. At night, she sleeps wherever she gets comfortable, usually in the living room. She has not been chewing things she shouldn’t, and her foster has not reported other mischievous projects. Nelly does bark, although she is not generally a constant commentator. The television gets quite a few complaints, and her voice is impressively loud. So, if your home has room for a 70-pound cookies-and-cream sweetheart with a gorgeous badger face, a gentle heart, and an appreciation for the comforts of home, Nelly may be your girl. She needs time and understanding, and she has so much sweetness worth getting to know. Her confidence is still growing; her ability to look like the finest dessert at the potluck is already fully established. If you’re ready to give Nelly a patient, loving forever home, fill out an adoption application at: https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app Yes, the whole application. We understand the temptation to simply comment, “I’ll take the cookies-and-cream one,” but our adoption process does require slightly more paperwork than an ice cream counter. Once submitted, we can share your application with her foster family to help determine whether your home could be the right fit. If approved, you will need to pick Nelly up in person at her foster location. We do not transport. This particular sweetheart needs someone willing to come get her, give her time, and save her a comfortable spot beside them.

Introducing Kodah. At 3 years old, Kodah is an entire serving of fluffy goodness. A walking duvet. A jumbo scoop of vanilla ice cream with a nose. The kind of girl who makes you wonder whether you need another dog, then immediately reminds you that “need” is a very restrictive word and we should all be more open-minded. Yes, Kodah is a tripod. Three legs, one very complete dog, and absolutely no discount on the amount of love you’re about to feel for her. She may be missing a leg, but whoever was in charge of assembling this sweetheart clearly compensated in the fluff department. Somewhere, a teddy bear factory is investigating a substantial inventory shortage. And yes, she is carrying a little extra weight. Normally, this is where we would clutch our pearls and insist that our girl simply has a luxurious coat, an unfortunate camera angle, and a body built for surviving a particularly dramatic winter. “She’s just fluffy,” we would say, while quietly avoiding all photographs taken from above. But with Kodah, keeping her fit matters. Her three remaining legs already have important jobs, and they do not need an unpaid overtime assignment hauling around extra pounds. Loving this girl means helping her stay at a healthy weight—not lovingly adding another cheese installment to the marshmallow. So, if your exercise routine currently consists of walking past your sneakers and thinking, “We should really do something together sometime,” Kodah may be the motivation you’ve been missing. Walking for your own health? Apparently negotiable. Walking for the well-being of your enormous, three-legged sweetheart? Well, now you’ve got your shoes on, your keys in hand, and a deeply personal investment in the neighborhood sidewalk. Kodah is looking for someone who can adore every inch of her while still saying, “Sweetheart, we cannot solve all our problems with snacks and naps(while secretly wishing you could).” Someone who sees the precious face, the impressive fluff, and the three legs—and wants to give the whole girl a lifetime of love and thoughtful care. 👉 Apply to adopt Kodah: https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app 📍Kodah is fostered in Warr Acres, Oklahoma. Her adopter must personally pick her up there. We do not transport. With other dogs, Kodah needed about a week to settle into her foster pack while everyone figured out the household arrangements. Who belongs where? Who gets attention first? Who is that enormous lady, and why does she look like she brought homemade banana bread? Now that everyone has adjusted, she does well with her canine roommates and participates in the welcome-home barking committee. She even waits patiently for her turn to be petted. While everyone else is acting like you have returned from a seven-year expedition, Kodah is standing there like a polite customer at the bakery. “Yes, hello. Whenever you have a moment, I would also like one affection, please.” Her foster currently has two visiting Corgis who are small enough to go underneath her. Kodah has found herself serving as an overpass for two loaves of bread with legs. She hangs back so they do not accidentally knock her off balance, which is sensible when your roommates are shaped like enthusiastic speed bumps. A compatible dog who enjoys some play without body-slamming her could be a wonderful friend and help keep her active. But Kodah also knows when to clock out. If the other four dogs get too wild, she takes herself to a quieter area. Cats are currently unknown. Her foster jokes that a cat could certainly outrun her, but we cannot list “unlikely to win a footrace” as an official cat-friendly certification. We cannot attest to how Kodah feels about sharing her home with a tiny landlord who owns six knives on each foot and believes all furniture belongs to them. Kodah has done well with her foster’s 18-month-old grandson. She does not crowd him or seek him out, but she allows him to pet her, usually while she is lying down. Apparently, she has adopted the role of the sweet aunt who is happy to receive visitors but will not be getting up to participate in whatever sticky activity they have planned. “Yes, darling, you may pet the fluffy lady. No, the fluffy lady will not be joining you underneath the dining-room table.” Her calm, respectful behavior with him is lovely, but interactions should still be supervised, and children need to respect her space and balance. She may resemble the finest beanbag chair ever manufactured, but she is not available for seating, climbing, or toddler parkour. Gentle pets? Wonderful. Using Kodah as transportation to the kitchen? Management must decline. Meeting new people is generally easy for Kodah, especially when they come equipped with working hands and a willingness to use them. She is sweet and polite about accepting attention, rather than launching all 80 pounds of herself at you like a couch cushion fired from a cannon. Of course, that politeness is a little deceptive, because then you touch her velvety ears and suddenly you are trapped. One minute you are saying hello; the next, you are crouched beside an enormous fluff biscuit, telling her she is the prettiest girl in the world while the person you actually came to visit wonders whether you remember their name. Kodah has done nothing pushy. She has simply arrived with luxury ears and allowed you to make your own poor time-management decisions. Her energy is around 3/10, and she is firmly a homebody. If your dream companion wants to summit a mountain before breakfast, Kodah would like to respectfully withdraw her application. She does run around the yard with the other dogs, but her play sessions are shorter, and she is quite content to be lazy. Her people will need to help her maintain a healthy balance between enjoying her downtime and getting appropriate activity. Being adorable while resting is a skill; unfortunately, it does not count as exercise. However, Kodah is not signing you up for an endurance event. Standard walks are currently difficult for her, and she tires quickly, so her activity needs to suit her comfort and abilities. A veterinarian-guided weight-management plan, sensible portions, and manageable opportunities to move and play are the assignment. Nobody needs to be screaming “FEEL THE BURN” at a dog who looks like an upholstered dumpling. We are aiming for healthier, happier Kodah—not a before-and-after photo of a traumatized personal trainer. Toys and fetch are not her thing. Throw a ball, and congratulations: you now have a ball over there. Kodah has made no commitment to participate in this situation. You threw it. You presumably know where it went. She trusts you to handle the next steps. Whether she likes water is unknown, so we cannot yet determine whether she is a pool girl, a sprinkler girl, or a “why is my foot wet and who approved this” girl. Kodah does well on a leash, but walking itself takes effort. She propels herself with her back legs and hops onto her remaining front leg, making weight management particularly important. Getting fitter may make moving around easier, but her family should be ready to support her current needs. This is a partnership with Kodah as she is today, not a fitness makeover purchased with unrealistic delivery expectations. She currently needs assistance getting in and out of a vehicle and rides well once inside. Her foster does wonder whether she has underestimated Kodah’s abilities, given the couch mystery. Apparently, accessing comfortable furniture brings out a skill set that has not yet transferred to automotive travel. Until further evidence is available, her family should plan to help with vehicle access. “But you climbed onto the couch!” is unlikely to produce a useful response from the defendant. No food guarding or resource guarding has been observed in her foster home, and her foster has not noted particular fears or dramatic overreactions. Kodah is sweet, calm, polite, and easy to get along with. She seems to have accepted that life contains occasional nonsense and that, whenever possible, one should simply move away from it. Honestly, she could charge for a workshop. A securely fenced yard and a suitable playmate would be ideal for giving her opportunities to move at her own pace. Her foster thinks her personality could suit apartment living, but meeting her exercise needs could be more challenging when standard leash walks are already difficult. A person with time for appropriate play could also be a good fit. Basically, she would benefit from someone who can lovingly interrupt her plans to spend the entire afternoon rotating napping spots. Kodah is potty trained and has the run of the house with the other dogs when her foster is away. She has not been kenneled in this home, so her crate manners are unknown. She knows “sit” and “come,” although she tends to ignore “come,” presumably because she has reviewed the request and determined that her current location remains satisfactory. You: “Kodah, come!” Kodah: “Thank you for reaching out.” The Great Pyrenees customer-service department will respond within three to five business days. She does not chew things she should not, and no escape tendencies have been observed. Very respectable. Very reassuring. You might even be tempted to describe her as an angel. Then you step into the yard. Kodah is a master hole digger. One front leg, significant output, absolutely no consultation with the property owner. Perhaps you were planning to plant a tree. Perhaps you were not. Either way, the preliminary work has begun, and she expects you to appreciate the initiative. And then there is the couch. Her foster has blocked the living-room entrance with a coffee table, yet Kodah somehow accesses the couch from the side. Is she going over the table? Over the arm? Does she know a passageway that the humans do not? Has she enlisted the Corgis to build a ramp? Nobody knows. What we do know is that an 80-pound, three-legged marshmallow has repeatedly defeated a furniture-based security system in pursuit of upholstery. The foster family would probably like an explanation. Kodah would probably like everyone to stop asking questions and bring her a pillow. Kodah does bark, especially when the other dogs bark or a neighborhood dog has something to announce. According to her foster family, whether she responds depends on what the other dog is saying, so apparently we are living with a giant marshmallow who understands neighborhood gossip. Three houses down, someone barks, and Kodah must decide whether this deserves her involvement. Squirrel on the fence? Worth discussing. Suspicious delivery truck? Alert the committee. Kevin barking because his own tail startled him again? Honestly, Kevin, we have talked about this. If your home could use a little more sweetness, a little more fluff, and a very polite girl who waits her turn to be loved, Kodah would like to submit herself for consideration. She brings a gentle heart, velvety ears, and the good sense to leave the room when everyone else starts acting ridiculous. Honestly, that last skill alone puts her ahead of several relatives. She would love a family who appreciates her easygoing company, respects her three-legged pace, and helps her stay healthy so she can keep enjoying life beside them. In return, you get an oversized sweetheart who can make an ordinary evening feel a whole lot warmer. You may also get a hole in the yard, but let’s focus on the romance. Ready to make this lovely marshmallow part of your family? Please fill out an adoption application for Kodah so we can send it to her foster family, who will help choose the best fit for her. Unfortunately, commenting “I WANT HER” does not automatically generate an application, although we admire your enthusiasm and completely understand what those ears have done to your judgment. Kodah is being fostered in Warr Acres, Oklahoma, and her approved adopter will need to pick her up in person. We do not offer transports, and this particular cloud will not float to your doorstep. You will need to come collect your own precious fluff biscuit—and honestly, that sounds like a pretty excellent reason for a road trip.

Visit our website at legacyofhopedogrescue.us to fill out an application!