Shih Tzu puppies and dogs in Owasso, Oklahoma

Meet Dakota, a 15-year-old gentleman who proves that age is just a number! He’s super chill, still agile for his years, completely potty trained, and gets along beautifully with other dogs. Dakota doesn’t ask for much—just a comfy spot to nap, a gentle hand to scratch his ears, and someone to love him. He may occasionally bark at absolutely nothing (he swears he saw something!), but that’s part of his sweet old-man charm. He truly is one of the kindest, easiest companions you’ll ever meet and deserves to spend his golden years surrounded by love. Give Dakota the cozy forever home he’s been waiting for at carerescueok.org!   ##2539828##

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Meet Bob. He radiates “grandma’s-favorite-afghan” energy: the kind of cozy presence that settles onto your lap, sighs dramatically, and suddenly you’re like, ah yes, this is exactly what my soul needed. Bob is the type of dog who could happily live out his days in a nursing home, rotating from lap to lap like a soft, smiling therapy cloud. And yes — he’ll flash that adorable grin...every time, just to make sure your heart grows three sizes. At 12 years old and weighing in at a very portable 19 pounds, Bob is a tiny, gentleman-shaped warm hug. He came to us through no fault of his own—life threw him a heartbreak he absolutely didn’t deserve. Bob’s beloved owner passed away, and he and his friend Theola ended up in the shelter, held with hope that family would come for them. No one ever did, and it wasn’t even clear if any next of kin existed. So the shelter staff did what they could, and then asked us for help. When Bob arrived, he was matted, uncomfortable, and dealing with both skin and ear infections. But now? He’s been treated, he’s on meds, and every day he looks and feels more like the soft, soothing soul he truly is. When it comes to other dogs, Bob is… unimpressed. He’s not here to make friends, start a revolution, or join anyone’s weird group Zoomies Session 2025. He met the whole canine cast and showed absolutely zero aggression—but also zero interest. He is the poster child for dog indifferent. Cats? Bob would likely treat them exactly the same way he treats dogs: share the space, don’t start drama, don’t join drama, and absolutely do not acknowledge drama. As for tiny humans, Bob is a senior citizen with senior citizen opinions. He prefers a home with calm energy—the ambiance of a quiet Sunday morning, not a Chuck E. Cheese birthday party. He’ll be fine with respectful kids once he knows them, but he may initially greet younger visitors with a few barks, which is his polite way of saying, “You startled me, small loud creature.” Babies or toddlers? Hard pass. Let’s not put this gentle old man through that emotional journey. When meeting new adults, Bob is dignified and polite, like a grandpa who still wears button-up shirts “just because.” He’ll accept gentle pets with grace, but he does expect the same level of respect in return. He is not here for chaotic energy, sudden movements, or being treated like a fuzzy wind-up toy. Bob is a gentleman—please act accordingly. Bob operates at an energy level of approximately “2,” which is impressive only because the number “1” already belongs to sloths, retired librarians, and that one houseplant you’re not totally sure is still alive. The only reason he doesn’t dip lower on the scale is because evening strolls are his pride and joy. The man LOVES his evening walks. He trots around like he’s competing in a senior citizen beauty pageant—chin up, ears perked, showing off his freshly groomed self like, “Yes, gaze upon me… I am majestic.” And when he’s not busy being the runway model of sunset sidewalks? He’s following his person around the house with the subtlety of a toddler who thinks disappearing behind a curtain makes them invisible. Just a touch needy, but in an endearing, “please don’t stop loving me” sort of way. Now, adventure-wise, Bob has retired from his mountain-climbing, marathon-running, thrill-seeking era—if that era ever existed. He is absolutely a homebody at heart. But don’t get it twisted: he would LOVE to be your constant companion. Coffee shops? Sure. Car rides? His favorite. He will sit quietly wherever you go, adding a soundtrack of tiny snores that somehow make everything feel cozier. His lifestyle now is less “let’s climb a glacier” and more “let’s sit together and judge people at Target.” Honestly, a mood. Bob’s overall vibe is calm, gentle, sweet, and very ready to become the resident therapy dog of someone’s home. Truly, he could live in a nursing home drifting from lap to lap like a mobile cuddle service and be perfectly happy. His smile should be classified as medicinal. He’s the fuzzy antidepressant Big Pharma doesn’t want you to know about. Favorite activities? Chair. That’s it. Chair. If he can sit next to you in a chair while you watch TV or read, he is living his best possible life. His second favorite activity is prancing around the neighborhood during his daily walks. That’s the whole personality. Snooze and stroll. A simple king. As for living arrangements, Bob does NOT require a yard worthy of a wolf pack. A small space is fine because he goes outside solely to handle business and then immediately clocks out. The only minor concern in apartment life is that Bob does not enjoy being left. He’ll whine and bark a bit when his person leaves—he does settle down but if someone lives next door to you and likes to complain about everything than Bob sadly may not be the best match. Bob is proudly, confidently, and wholeheartedly potty trained—because at his distinguished age, he considers indoor accidents a rookie mistake. Kenneling? Don’t even bother. Bob has informed us that he is far too mature, refined, and emotionally stable to be confined like some sort of common toddler. Chewing things he shouldn’t? Causing mischief? Launching himself over fences like an Olympic athlete? Absolutely not. At this point in life, Bob is far too busy being wholesome and adorable to be problematic. He does not chew, he does not dig, he does not steal snacks, and he does not attempt any daring escapes. He’s not an adrenaline junkie—he’s an elder millennial trapped in a dog body who just wants comfort, stability, and a steady snack schedule. And if there’s one thing a future adopter absolutely must know, it’s this: Bob is pure love wrapped in fur. You can brush him, trim his nails, clean his ears—he’ll take it all with the serenity of a tiny monk. Bob isn’t high-maintenance. He’s heart-maintenance. So if you’ve been dreaming of a tiny, soft, emotionally supportive grandpa who will follow you around like your own fluffy retirement-age entourage…Bob is waiting for you. If your heart is already whispering, “Okay… fine… I love him,” then it’s time to make it official. Fill out an adoption application at https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app so we can pass it along to his foster family and get ready to pick this senior cinnamon roll up in Broken Arrow, OK. Go ahead. Adopt Bob. You deserve a dog this comforting… and Bob deserves someone who understands that he’s basically living, breathing emotional support mashed potatoes.

Meet Theola: Think of her as a houseplant that waters your soul—low-maintenance, calming to have around, and happiest in a sunny spot next to her favorite human. She’s the perfect blend of independence and affection; she won’t demand your undivided attention every waking moment; she’s perfectly content lounging on the couch like a sentient marshmallow who occasionally leans in for a snuggle. At 12 years young and a perfectly portable 15 pounds, this little Shih Tzu mix arrived to rescue through no fault of her own. Life dealt her a heartbreak she didn’t deserve: her owner passed away, and she and her friend Bob ended up in the shelter. Staff held onto the hope that family would appear for them… but no one ever came. So we welcomed this gentle soul into rescue, and she arrived with a few battle scars from neglect and time. A skin infection had caused her hair loss, and her ears were dealing with some impressively unpleasant infections—think “spa day needed ASAP.” With proper meds and TLC, her skin is healing beautifully, her ears are feeling worlds better, and we fully expect her adorable coat to grow back in soon. Through everything, Theola has remained the sweetest, softest-hearted little comfort creature you could ever hope to meet, and takes her meds like a champ and doesn't give her foster any resistance when it comes to bath time. When it comes to other dogs, Theola treats them the same way you treat strangers at the grocery store who try to talk to you before you’ve had caffeine: not rude, not hostile… but absolutely not accepting invitations for conversation. She minds her business, expects everyone else to mind theirs, and if a dog gets a little too bold, she gives them the senior-citizen side-eye that translates to, “Sweetie, no. Not today.” As for cats? Honestly, she’d likely extend them the same energy-efficient diplomacy. Theola’s philosophy is simple: “If you leave me alone, we shall coexist like two exhausted coworkers waiting for the elevator.” No chasing, no drama, just peaceful mutual avoidance. When it comes to kids, Theola has no interest in being the emotional support animal for sticky hands or loud giggles. She met an eleven-year-old once. He pet her. She blinked. That was the entire storyline. But let’s be honest—she is twelve years old, missing some fur, and very much over life’s chaos. She will happily coexist with calm, older children who understand personal boundaries. Toddlers, however, operate like unpredictable Roombas with jam on their faces, and Theola would simply opt out. As for meeting new people, Theola handles it with all the enthusiasm of someone hearing a distant doorbell during a nap: she’ll lift her head, squint, and evaluate whether the human seems worthy of mild curiosity. She’s not sprinting across the room or doing backflips for attention, but if someone approaches with gentle hands and respectful energy, she’ll graciously accept the pets like the dignified dowager queen she is. In short, Theola is not here to party, referee, babysit, or perform. She is here to be adored If Theola had an energy rating, she’d be a solid Level 1. She lives her life at the peaceful pace of a woman who has earned her right to move slowly, sigh dramatically, and ignore anything that doesn’t involve snacks or soft bedding. In the car, Theola is the definition of a dream travel buddy—quiet, calm, and lets you play whatever music you want because she is, above all else, merciful. As for walking? Theola is not training for any kind of marathon. Or half-marathon. Or 5K. Or brisk walk. She enjoys a gentle neighborhood stroll—the kind where you admire a few flowers, judge a few lawn decorations, and head back home before either of you breaks a sweat. Anything longer, faster, or ambitious will earn you the side-eye. Adventure-wise, Theola is solidly Team Homebody. She is your Netflix-and-chill elder queen, here for cozy evenings, light snuggling, and absolutely no interest in climbing mountains or mingling at dog-friendly breweries. She’s not a lap dog, not yet anyway—more of a “place a bed near you so she can supervise your choices” kind of companion. Temperament-wise, she is a professional bed-hopper. She may not have the oomph to hop onto the couch, but she will rotate through every dog bed in the house like she’s rating them on Yelp. She is calm, gentle, observant, peaceful, and the exact kind of soul who could melt hearts in a retirement home or therapy setting. Her favorite activities? Treat time and nap time, preferably in that order. She is unapologetically committed to both. Toys? Hard pass. Fetch? Absolutely not. Anything involving effort? She laughed. And as for home requirements—yard, no yard, apartment, duplex, castle tower, studio loft—none of it matters. As long as her dog bed is present, Theola will simply materialize like magic. Theola is fully potty-trained. Crates? She has not been kenneled here. At her age, she’s earned the right to the soft bed, the cushy blanket, and her own senior-living layout—no prison cells needed, thank you. Chewing? No. Mischief? Also no. Destruction? Absolutely not. Theola does not engage in such youthful nonsense. She is far too busy cycling through her dog beds like she’s testing mattress firmness for a consumer report. Her barking style could best be described as “peer pressure participant.” If another dog barks, she’ll toss in a single courtesy woof just to be included. Otherwise, she’s quieter than a librarian doing yoga. When you’re gone, she remains perfectly content on a dog bed—no redecorating, no drama, no existential crisis. She simply waits for you like the world’s most patient, fluffy roommate. And because her time with us has mostly been spent recovering from skin issues, baths, meds, and ear cleanings, her personality is still unfolding like a slow, senior-citizen butterfly. The glimpses we’ve seen include some gentle playfulness and a truly elite ability to accept meds, grooming, ear care, and nail trims like an absolute pro. She is, at her core, the kind of companion dog who behaves like a cat: independent, dignified, calm, and mildly judgmental, yet still ready to adore you in her quiet, cozy way. So if you’re ready to welcome the softest, sleepiest, most delightfully unimpressed little queen into your life, go ahead and fill out that adoption app for her—yes, the actual application at https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app, not the mental one you just whispered to yourself. Once it’s submitted, we’ll send it straight to her foster family, and if approved, you can pick up Her Royal Bed-Hopping Highness in Broken Arrow, OK. Go on. Adopt the senior icon. Your dog beds have never deserved someone this fabulous.