God's Gift

Receiving a free Great Pyrenees isn't an experience 

that many people are blessed to have;

and we were keenly aware of that when we brought our special

big polar bear of a dog "Haggai" home several years back.

We were even more aware, and painfully so, when we found

him on the side of the road this past July. 

Gifts like Haggai only come once in a lifetime.

Or do they.

Saturday, we were blessed to bring home the second

free Great Pyrenees of our sheep raising career.

I suspect he's part Lab, he's not as furry, and has a few tan places,

but that sheep dog is in him, we can see it grinning back at us.

We're calling him Barclay at the moment; (pronounced Barkley) -
I guess only time will tell how well the name sticks.
He's an adorable seven-month-old bundle of gigantic-puppy fun.

Too much fun for head-honcho Huck...

(Huck's neck-fur gave him a standing ovation...)

Upon meeting Huck, he furrowed his brow, buttoned

his goofy ears up on the very top of his head, tongue flopping freely,
and then danced on Huck's shadow - all around the driveway.
Huck was not at all amused.
On the contrary; I took it that he was pretty disgusted.

After meeting Buster and Huck,
Dad took Barclay on a tour of his new assignment.

The "Big One" stared shamelessly.

The sheep also gawked without apology,

but only after spunky young Barclay chased them around the paddock;

so I guess we can't really blame them for that.

Dad had a word with Barclay about chasing sheep;

and he's now working on conquering the urge.

Perhaps Barclay's most memorable moment of coming home,

was meeting a high-strung little terrier guy.

I guess it's true that we haven't acquired any new dogs for quite awhile,

 but Spencer's reaction was still a little startling.

(Here's Barclay risking a peek to see where the 

other-worldly yodeling was coming from.)

It took us a moment's cogitation to be certain that the evil racket 

was really, truly, coming from our sweet little teddy bear of a Spencer.

You'd be surprised how quickly the guy can go from our 

smiley, stub-wagging, Foxanne-toting, little sweetheart;

to a fierce monster, with a convincing "junk-yard-dog"

 bellow that chills 'possum hearts.

He's definitely a dog's dog.

But that was no way to greet a friend like Barclay.

We're all still in a bit of a process of helping Barclay find

his spot here with us; but we're so thrilled to have him.

And hopeful that this baby-face with the wrinkly-brow and 

button-up ears will soon grow to be as faithful a guardian as 

the dog whose place he's attempting to take.