Neither Bears nor Burglars

Great Pyrenees | Up North Pyrenees

The summer a mother bear and her cubs repeatedly and boldly visited our yard while my little brothers played outside,  was the summer my parents decided it was time to get a guardian dog.  That was the year a Great Pyrenees joined our family.  He was a clumsy, cuddly ball of fluff who tripped over his own feet.  Over the next two years, he grew from a 15 pound armful of soft puppy love to over 150 pounds of devoted guardian.

     Despite his fluffy, loveable appearance and laid back personality, we knew he was watching out for us.  Besides determinedly keeping bears, moose, and timber wolves out of our yard, “Champ” seemed to have a sense of when to welcome and when to discourage human visitors.  He did not allow unwelcome visitors out of their vehicles when my dad was gone for days at a time, leaving my mom and three young children home alone.

     When our family moved from the northern Minnesota woods to a suburban Texas home, of course Champ came with us.  Can a Great Pyrenees survive that kind of change?  From tree-lined Minnesota lakes to Gulf of Mexico beaches?  From the freedom of hundreds of wooded acres to a postage-stamp sized back yard and leash?  Champ not only survived, he continued to fulfill his life’s purpose-to guard his small flock, his family.

     Just his presence in or near the house was enough to deter unwelcome visitors.  Neighbors’ homes on the cul-de-sac were burglarized.  But never, while Champ was on duty, was our home or its inhabitants unprotected!

All is safe on a Super Blue Blood Moon!

The Great Pyrenees is a real dog! Sorry to most other dog breed owners out there. Mom, I know that Shitzu was once known as the Tibetan lion dog. He sits on your lap and bears some resemblance to his canine forbearers but is about as useless as a wet blanket on a cold night.

We’ve had plenty of cold nights up here on the Canadian border. We often step outside to hear a pack of coyotes howling what seems a stones throw away. Tracks are evidence in the morning of a pacing predator looking for an opening in the fence and an easy meal of chevon. In the past 4 years coyotes and wolves have been thwarted night after night.

I could brag about the fencing that my son Micah and the rest of our family has done. I could also brag about the time my daughter Madi dispatched a threatening coyote with a throwing club while her Great Pyrenees stood guard in a full snarl. But, instead I’ll brag about our guardians.

The other morning during the lunar eclipse the eerie silence was pierced by the calls of coyotes signaling another night of failure over our livestock. All is safe on a Super Blue Blood Moon!