I took Chewie to the vet this morning after my own doctor's appointment, and he does indeed have mange. Mange and every form of intestinal parasite known to man. Great. Here we go vet bill deluxe....
I asked what type of dog or dogs might make up his illustrious pedigree, and I was expecting to hear some form of lab in there based on his head shape and paw size.
"Great Pyrenees. If not pure bred, then almost."
Knock me down with a freaking feather. That is a big, BIG, dog. I mean BIG. And unusual for these parts. We don't herd sheep upon the mountains here, you know. Somebody threw out bastard royalty on me.
Of course, this isn't the first time. Britta, my first pit bull, was pure bred. She was crazy as all get out, but she was 100% pit. This little boy appears to be another little diamond in the rough. Very, very rough, as it turns out, and maybe that's why somebody tossed him. I suspect it has more to do with the general fecal nature of the composition of their souls, personally....
The vet told me that Great Pyrenees are herding dogs, gentle shepherds, good with protecting stock, loving and gentle with kids. Chewie, then, should rehome easily. He'll be somebody's gentle giant. I hope I can find him a house full of kids to ride him like a big white horse. I rather suspect, as he reaches that size, that he'll like that. The thought of it makes me happy, too.
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And then you said.....