So, without further ado, from a Pyr-owner since 2013, I’d like to share my wisdom for anyone out there thinking about getting a Great Pyrenees or who just adopted one and is wondering what they got themselves into.
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I haven’t introduced her on the blog yet, so if you didn’t know, Ryan and I adopted a kitten this past September (it’s a long story, but I’m horribly, horribly allergic to cats, and we met her as a week-old-kitten while touring our wedding venue. I wasn’t allergic to her mom, so we took a chance and magically, I’m not uncontrollably allergic to her either). Her name is Bisous (French for kisses), and I find her to be a conundrum. Ryan has owned cats throughout his childhood, and though I’ve owned a bunny, a turtle, several fish, and seven dogs over my lifetime, I’ve never had a cat before Bisous. So here’s a list of questions, concerns, and downright oddities that I, as a dogs-are-the-best-pets person, can’t seem to understand about owning a cat.
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Now, I get tons of questions about having Pyrenees because one, giant white fluff balls attract a lot of attention, and two, they require a little extra work, since there's so much extra of them. I've written about what you should know about Pyrs and what life with these babies is like, and you can read those posts here. But in honor of this blisteringly hot June and July weather, I decided to give you a glimpse into specifically what my summers look like with my giant fur babies.
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In my household, our female dogs have always been the boss. Diamond, our border collie mix, was the first alpha, always trying to herd our other dogs (or even us kids). When she passed away, Tinkerbell, our feisty Chihuahua, became the top dog (no pun intended). Tinkerbell had secretly been waiting for this moment to seize power, like a teeny tiny dictator. She reveled in her absolute power over Coco, our cairn terrier, constantly yapping in poor Coco's face when she committed the ultimate sin of trotting out the door before Her Majesty. But soon enough, Tinkerbell was once again forced to slink into the shadows by a new alpha: Luna the Great Pyrenees.
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When we picked up Luna and Argos, they were fat, squirmy little babies. They were the biggest puppies I'd ever seen, like polar bear stuffed animals come to life. They lived the first few weeks of their life in a barn surrounded by sheep, and you could smell it on them. We gave them a bath that night, and every single week that month, and with each bath, the smell of wet sheep slowly dissipated.
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I'm a relatively weird person who is best friends with her dogs and also loves researching personality types, so it was only a matter of time until I found this personality test made specifically for dogs. It's called the Canine Behavior Type Index and, akin to Myers-Briggs, it gives your dog a cool name like Adventurer, Dreamer, Companion, Deputy, etc. based on their personality type. Let's do this.
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Not gonna lie, my dogs probably get treated better than anyone else in my life. I'm not mad about it. Here are five signs your relationship with your dog is as dysfunctional as mine
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For reference, this is my Chihuahua, Tinkerbell. She's about twelve years old and still just as feisty as ever. She weighs in at about six pounds (so about 6 percent of my Great Pyrenees' weight). She is small enough to cradle like a baby (but she hates it), she loves dressing up in doggy clothes, and she likes to pretend to be human by, for example, sleeping under the covers with her head laying on my pillow.
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PRO: They are great for general cuddling needs.
What could be better than spooning a person-sized dog? After a bad day, cuddling with the nearest fur baby makes all your troubles melt away. Pyrs, as with many giant breed dogs, are also very empathetic (they are often used as emotional support dogs), so they can usually use their intuition to sense your mood. If I'm upset, mine will immediately calm down and both will try to sit on me and lick my face.
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While Argos is the baby and master attention manipulator of my two Great Pyrenees, Luna has always been the smart one.
When we were potty training the puppies, we tried out the bell system. We attached a dangling bell to the knob of the door we most often used to take the puppies out and hit it before every potty break to associate the bell sound with going outside. It took Luna all of one day to figure out a way to trick the system. The house rang with the sound of the bell constantly as Luna attempted to capitalize on her newfound powers. She believed she now had the magical ability to make the door open at her own free will, her human slaves available at her beck and call. She was more than dismayed when we discovered her ploy and removed the bell.
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Here's the truth: I never knew shedding until we got Luna and Argos. They shed year round. They shed when it's hot outside and when there's snow on the ground. Sometimes they shed enough that you can pull out fist-sized clumps of fur with your bare hands. If you don't vacuum for a week, there aren't just hair balls in the corners—you've got a new carpet made of hair. They can't rub against you without a thick layer of white hair left along your pants. When you do laundry, you find hair balls interwoven in the fabric of your shirts and filling the dryer vent. You have to keep a lint roller in the car because you know you'll be covered again by the time you make it from the bathroom to the front door.
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