Hawthorne

THE HAWTHORNE HANDBOOK<br/>A Field Guide to Retirement, Recovery & Absolutely Not Rushing Anywhere<br/><br/> Pickup Location: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma<br/>Adopters will need to come pick up their new furry family member themselves.<br/><br/> Apply here:<br/>https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app<br/><br/>Meet Hawthorne, an 8-year-old, 116-pound Great Pyrenees who has officially reached the stage of life where he has absolutely nothing left to prove. Some dogs wake up ready to seize the day. Hawthorne wakes up, realizes the day will still be there later, and goes back to sleep. His foster describes him as a lazy old man who prefers naps and leisurely strolls around the yard. Hawthorne's Daily Schedule:<br/><br/>8:00 AM: Nap.<br/>10:17 AM: Relocate to a more premium napping location.<br/>12:00 PM: Consider getting up.<br/>12:03 PM: Absolutely not.<br/>3:30 PM: Observe household activities from a horizontal position.<br/>6:00 PM: Dinner. Finally, something worth standing for.<br/>9:00 PM: Evening constitutional around the estate.<br/>9:12 PM: Return inside after successfully inspecting approximately seven blades of grass.<br/>9:15 PM: Bedtime. It's been an exhausting day.<br/><br/>And after everything this boy has been through, we think he has more than earned the right to take life at Hawthorne speed. Hawthorne came to PPFT after being scheduled for euthanasia at the shelter because of the severity of his condition. Beneath that enormous Pyrenees coat were multiple puncture wounds across his neck, believed to be from an attack by another animal. The wounds had become severely infected, and maggots had already moved in. And because apparently Hawthorne's body hadn't been handed enough problems, he also arrived with significant diarrhea, hookworms, a URI, a positive Ehrlichia test, difficulty getting around, and a large tumor on his head/ear. With treatment, good food, pain medication, and plenty of time to rest—which, conveniently, happens to be his area of expertise—Hawthorne is feeling SO much better. His diarrhea, hookworms, and Ehrlichia have been treated, he's moving around significantly better with pain management, and he will soon undergo surgery to remove the tumor from his head/ear. He would now like to formally request soft beds, good snacks, leisurely evening strolls, and management that understands there is absolutely no reason to hurry when you're 116 pounds and retired. Welcome to The Hawthorne Handbook, where we'll be learning everything there is to know about this wonderfully distinguished senior gentleman. Hawthorne survived the chapter that should have broken him. Now we're ready to help him write the one where the old man finally gets to live. <br/><br/>If Hawthorne were allowed to design his own forever home, we're fairly certain he'd request a quiet retirement community with excellent flooring, a fenced courtyard, and evening recreation hours. Hawthorne is a homebody through and through. His ideal family would be relatively calm and happy to embrace the slower pace of life. He's not looking for someone to take him hiking, jogging, kayaking, or on a 14-state road trip. At an energy level of approximately 2/10, this gentleman's preferred recreational activities include napping, wandering around the yard, taking leisurely nighttime strolls, and then presumably recovering from all that strenuous wandering with another nap. A home with one or two calmer dogs would suit him nicely. Hawthorne currently lives with a Mastiff, small dogs, and cats, and his official position on all of them is: They live here. That's about it. He doesn't particularly care about the size of his canine roommates, isn't looking for a wrestling partner, and has no interest in organizing neighborhood playgroups. He's perfectly content peacefully coexisting with everyone. Cats? Hawthorne lives with them. Hawthorne does not care about them. The cats exist. Hawthorne exists. Everyone has accepted this arrangement. Kids? He's been around children ranging from about 112 to 17 years old, and once again, Hawthorne is remarkably unbothered by the youth of today. He enjoys being petted, loves people, and is a very chill guy, but he's not likely to spend the afternoon chasing children through the backyard. He's also friendly with new people and apparently loves everyone .<br/><br/> Hawthorne needs a securely fenced yard. A fenced yard suits him because Hawthorne much prefers wandering around at his own pace over structured walks. He actually does well on leash—until his human makes the grave error of suggesting they turn around before Hawthorne has personally decided the excursion is complete. Then? Down he goes. All 116 pounds. Right onto the ground. Hawthorne has discovered something very important about leash negotiations: You cannot redirect a Great Pyrenees who has become flooring. So while he can walk on leash, his dream setup is definitely a fenced yard where he can mosey, sniff, contemplate life, and return inside when His Majesty determines yard inspection is complete. Because he's an older gentleman, he also tires more quickly than younger dogs and shouldn't spend long periods outside during hot weather. His favorite time to patrol his kingdom is in the evening, when it's cooler. And apparently Hawthorne has another outdoor hobby: getting into his foster's fish pond. He doesn't otherwise have access to a pool, but based on his repeated attempts to become one with the koi, his foster suspects he'd thoroughly enjoy a dog-accessible pool.<br/><br/>Hawthorne is currently on carprofen to help manage his old-man aches and pains, and it has made a noticeable difference in his mobility. He's moving around much better, but his forever home still needs to accommodate an older, giant-breed dog whose body has been through a LOT. Slippery floors are Hawthorne's nemesis. Carpet? Great. Rugs? Fantastic. Tile? Hawthorne's back legs: We resign. He can sometimes struggle to get himself up on slick flooring, and his foster gives his rear end a little tap/boost to help him find his footing. Once he's up, he's good to go. Rugs or runners throughout slippery areas would make life much easier for him. He also cannot manage a full flight of stairs. Three or four steps to get in and out of the house are manageable, but his future bedroom absolutely cannot be located on the 47th floor of a Victorian mansion. He may also need help getting into and out of taller vehicles. Lower cars are easier for him, but SUVs/trucks may require his human to provide some assistance. Essentially, Hawthorne isn't asking for much. Just a home that's willing to make life a little easier on an aging body that has already fought incredibly hard to keep going. <br/><br/>Hawthorne is potty trained, doesn't chew things he shouldn't, doesn't care about toys, doesn't play fetch, doesn't climb onto the couch, and doesn't need to be kenneled when his people leave. He simply free roams the house. Now, every respectable elderly gentleman is entitled to one vice. Hawthorne's is bread. Not steak. Not hamburgers. Not whatever you're eating for dinner. Loaves. Of. Bread. His foster reports that Hawthorne doesn't generally steal food or bother people while they're eating. But leave an unattended loaf of bread within reach? Suddenly Grandpa has entered his criminal era.<br/><br/>Hawthorne: I don't know what happened.<br/><br/>Foster: There was an entire loaf here.<br/><br/>Hawthorne, surrounded by crumbs: Terrible neighborhood.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Apparently this is the only thing he's been naughty about. So Hawthorne's future adopter should understand that bread must be stored responsibly because this household will be operating under the assumption that the elderly gentleman cannot be trusted around carbohydrates. Otherwise, Hawthorne is refreshingly low-maintenance. He doesn't have dramatic fears. He doesn't bark unnecessarily. He generally only uses his voice when he needs to go outside or another dog is violating the Dinner Privacy Act. Overall, Hawthorne isn't looking for a family that's going to ask him to become something he's not. He needs someone who sees the charm in a giant, sleepy old man who wants a peaceful home, a comfortable place to rest, a yard to slowly patrol, people to love, and the occasional assisted boost when his back end doesn't quite cooperate. After everything his body has endured, Hawthorne isn't asking for an exciting next chapter. He's asking for a gentle one.<br/><br/>So, if you've read The Hawthorne Handbook and thought:<br/><br/>You know what my house is missing? A 116-pound retired gentleman who naps professionally, wanders the yard recreationally, occasionally requires assisted launching from slippery floors, refuses unreasonable leash negotiations, and commits highly specific bakery-related felonies...<br/><br/>Congratulations. Hawthorne may be your guy. Now comes the part where everyone comments: OMG I WANT HIM!!! Excellent. We have prepared a groundbreaking next step for exactly this situation.<br/><br/> Fill out an adoption application. Not Interested! Not Where is he located?<br/>Not How do I adopt? underneath the post containing instructions on how to adopt. Not sending us a message explaining that Hawthorne spiritually belongs to you while carefully avoiding the actual application. The application is how you get Hawthorne.<br/><br/>Once you submit it and your application is approved, we can send it over to Hawthorne's foster family so they can determine whether you might be the lucky person entrusted with Grandpa, his retirement schedule, and the household bread-security system.<br/><br/>And because Hawthorne is currently being fostered in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, his adopter will need to personally pick him up in OKC. We don't transport dogs. We don't have a secret network of Pyr chauffeurs. And Hawthorne will not be shipped to your doorstep with a complimentary loaf of sourdough.

THE HAWTHORNE HANDBOOK
A Field Guide to Retirement, Recovery & Absolutely Not Rushing Anywhere

Pickup Location: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
Adopters will need to come pick up their new furry family member themselves.

Apply here:
https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app

Meet Hawthorne, an 8-year-old, 116-pound Great Pyrenees who has officially reached the stage of life where he has absolutely nothing left to prove. Some dogs wake up ready to seize the day. Hawthorne wakes up, realizes the day will still be there later, and goes back to sleep. His foster describes him as a lazy old man who prefers naps and leisurely strolls around the yard. Hawthorne's Daily Schedule:

8:00 AM: Nap.
10:17 AM: Relocate to a more premium napping location.
12:00 PM: Consider getting up.
12:03 PM: Absolutely not.
3:30 PM: Observe household activities from a horizontal position.
6:00 PM: Dinner. Finally, something worth standing for.
9:00 PM: Evening constitutional

THE HAWTHORNE HANDBOOK
A Field Guide to Retirement, Recovery & Absolutely Not Rushing Anywhere

Pickup Location: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
Adopters will need to come pick up their new furry family member themselves.

Apply here:
https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app

Meet Hawthorne, an 8-year-old, 116-pound Great Pyrenees who has officially reached the stage of life where he has absolutely nothing left to prove. Some dogs wake up ready to seize the day. Hawthorne wakes up, realizes the day will still be there later, and goes back to sleep. His foster describes him as a lazy old man who prefers naps and leisurely strolls around the yard. Hawthorne's Daily Schedule:

8:00 AM: Nap.
10:17 AM: Relocate to a more premium napping location.
12:00 PM: Consider getting up.
12:03 PM: Absolutely not.
3:30 PM: Observe household activities from a horizontal position.
6:00 PM: Dinner. Finally, something worth standing for.
9:00 PM: Evening constitutional around the estate.
9:12 PM: Return inside after successfully inspecting approximately seven blades of grass.
9:15 PM: Bedtime. It's been an exhausting day.

And after everything this boy has been through, we think he has more than earned the right to take life at Hawthorne speed. Hawthorne came to PPFT after being scheduled for euthanasia at the shelter because of the severity of