Chip

Baxter (formerly Chip)<br/>Baxter is the kind of dog you notice before you meet him.<br/>
A coat brushed together from brown, black, and white—freckled, speckled, thoughtful. The kind that makes people pause and ask, What do you think his mix is? As if the answer might explain the rest of him.<br/><br/>When you touch him, he’s soft. Velvety. Grounding. The kind of softness that invites your hand to linger, that makes you forget what time it is for a second.<br/><br/>Baxter moves through the world nose-first. Always reading the ground. Always listening for what came before. He walks well on leash, steady and focused, like he’s doing important work. Because to him, he is. He loves fetch—really loves it—and there’s something joyful and relieving in watching him lock onto a task and follow it through.<br/><br/>Emotionally, Baxter is observant. He doesn’t rush. New people and new dogs get a careful once-over before he decides it’s safe to exhale. And then—once he knows—you see him soften. Relax. Lean into the moment. He’s a working dog at heart, wired for engagement and routine, but he absolutely has room in that big, capable body for couch snuggles too.<br/><br/>At his first adoption event, something clicked. He finally relaxed enough to take a bone… then planted his front end down and popped his butt straight up in the air like a quiet celebration. That was the moment. The glimpse of who he is when he feels okay.<br/><br/>Baxter is about 4 years old and weighs around 55 pounds. He’s currently in foster after being returned—not because he did something wrong, but because he wasn’t the right fit for that family’s lifestyle. He will thrive with structure, clear routines, and mental stimulation. <br/><br/>He wants a job. He wants guidance. He wants to belong.<br/>Baxter is looking for a home that understands working dogs—not as projects, but as partners.
If that’s you, he’s ready to meet you.

Baxter (formerly Chip)
Baxter is the kind of dog you notice before you meet him.

A coat brushed together from brown, black, and white—freckled, speckled, thoughtful. The kind that makes people pause and ask, What do you think his mix is? As if the answer might explain the rest of him.

When you touch him, he’s soft. Velvety. Grounding. The kind of softness that invites your hand to linger, that makes you forget what time it is for a second.

Baxter moves through the world nose-first. Always reading the ground. Always listening for what came before. He walks well on leash, steady and focused, like he’s doing important work. Because to him, he is. He loves fetch—really loves it—and there’s something joyful and relieving in watching him lock onto a task and follow it through.

Emotionally, Baxter is observant. He doesn’t rush. New people and new dogs get a careful once-over before he decides it’s safe to exhale. And then—once he knows—you see him soften. Relax. Lean into the moment. He’s a worki

Baxter (formerly Chip)
Baxter is the kind of dog you notice before you meet him.

A coat brushed together from brown, black, and white—freckled, speckled, thoughtful. The kind that makes people pause and ask, What do you think his mix is? As if the answer might explain the rest of him.

When you touch him, he’s soft. Velvety. Grounding. The kind of softness that invites your hand to linger, that makes you forget what time it is for a second.

Baxter moves through the world nose-first. Always reading the ground. Always listening for what came before. He walks well on leash, steady and focused, like he’s doing important work. Because to him, he is. He loves fetch—really loves it—and there’s something joyful and relieving in watching him lock onto a task and follow it through.

Emotionally, Baxter is observant. He doesn’t rush. New people and new dogs get a careful once-over before he decides it’s safe to exhale. And then—once he knows—you see him soften. Relax. Lean into the moment. He’s a working dog at heart, wired for engagement and routine, but he absolutely has room in that big, capable body for couch snuggles too.

At his first adoption event, something clicked. He finally relaxed enough to take a bone… then planted his front end down and popped his butt straight up in the air like a quiet celebration. That was the moment. The glimpse of who he is when he feels okay.
Show moreShow more