08/28/2026
2 years and 63 days ago, I walked outside to mail a letter and found an absolute o**y of great Pyrenees and great Pyrenees mixes going at it at my mailbox. Dogs had traveled from far and wide to come down and try their luck. The female dog had traveled about 3 miles and with her, every fluffy, big b***d beast followed suit, only to finally consummate in the road in front of my house.
I donât know if youâve ever seen a pile of h0rny Pyrenees going at it. The female with her back arched, growling for a fluffer; the boys in line, begging for a fluff piece. It was wild and my hose wouldnât reach, but everyone elseâs did.
It was a few weeks later when I heard word through the grapevine that the female was looking a little round and pictures were sent, asking what everyone else thought. I agreed that she looked rather swole but also, I thought it might be great to have a Pyrenees or two for the farm. I have an active ammosexual stalker/hater that lives practically next door, so the more deterrence and protection I can have, the better. Plus, with all the coyotes around, I would sleep much better knowing that my goats could have an extra layer of protection in addition to the derelict donkeys that live with them. I quickly called dibs on 2 of them, as long as I could have the pick of the litter.
A week later, Marfa and Woofus sprung from the confines of their mother, some would claim it was a natural birth, but having known them for 2 years, I am pretty convinced that they may chewed their way out, depriving themselves of oxygen and killing any brain cells that controlled obedience and recall.
With neighbors, we got their mom spayed, and at a few days short of 8 weeks old, I took custody because their mother decided they were too much. She had brought them into the world so she vowed to take them out.
And honestlyâŚI get it.
Part of this is on me. I let internet bullies and know it alls get to me and; therefore, Marfa and Woofus will never be the fully working livestock dogs that I had initially intended. I had a few people (one in particular) telling me over and over livestock guardian this, livestock guardian that to the point that I just one day said âF itâ and brought them inside, made them sweaters and called them house dogs.
In the past 2 years, the 250 lbs of Pyrenees pups have eaten about $5000 worth of couches and furniture. They took about 18 months to potty train, with each accident being the equivalent to dropping half a gallon of milk on the floor and an entire birthday cake of s**t. They have destroyed floors, chewed walls, and caused grey hairs and marital strife. They ate, literally, every single pair of shoes that I own minus a pair of heels that was kept up high in a closet. (Through the love of HFG fans, you guys have replenished me with shoes even better than what I had before.)
Raising them, some would say, has been hell. I might be barefoot and have extremely well chewed couches, but, itâs not all bad.
Since having 250 lbs of muscle that loves me, my wife and my son to the end of the earth and back, I have been able to feel safe again. The dogs do nothing to protect our goats other than bark deterrence and chasing coyotes when they get too close, but they have given me some semblance of normalcy again.
4 years ago, something happened, the action of another human, on my property that no longer allowed me to feel safe. As a result, I was diagnosed with PTSD and one of the worst parts was the subsequent agoraphobia that followed. We had a young child and large property and suddenly I was too afraid to go outside. I couldnât make soap due to the location of the soap house making me feel vulnerable. I couldnât write, because I only write when I am happy, and I simply couldnât be. The trauma killed my ability to make money and we lived off savings and barebones residual income after that.
I have spent the past 3 years in weekly therapy and up until about a 9 months ago, daily medication, in an effort to take my strength back and manage my anxieties about living in a situation where there is an active and legit threat to my life and safety at all times. All of that has definitely helped, but, what I didnât see happening was the transitioning of failed livestock guardian dogs turning into completely effective emotional support dogs.
Now, emotionally, they wreck me. They are the most disobedient, goofy, clunky, destructive dogs I have ever met. Everything they touch is destroyed and they have generated as many âF-Yousâ as âI love yousâ, but, through that, I have regained function. Where I used to have problems walking to the mailbox because the guy that likes to watch me is allowed to just stand in the public road there, I now go fully confident because they have taught me to chase them into the street without any second thought to health or safety. Iâve always been someone who walks for health, but with agoraphobia, I spent a few years unable to do so. Having a 125 lb idiot on a leash has helped me start walking again.
Having 2 of those idiots on a leash has disclocated a shoulder.
Today, my idiots turn 2 years old. They are significantly calming down and are easier to live with. I can say, with some level of confidence, that the couch chewing has finally stopped. Though this morning I did pull a rolling pin from one of their jowls, but who can blame them, itâs flavor! They are the sweet, loving, great with cats and kids, and, while I will unapologetically cuss them to infinity, I love them even further beyond.
Happy 2nd birthday, Marfa and Woofus Wainwright!
P.S. And as for the stalker, a weak, mean, old fella who used to spend half an hour a day just parking his UTV inches from my property line and watching and photographing our family, he stopped once the dogs went from pup to dog size. He now only uses a truck and, due to itâs size, has to stay on the main road with it so itâs much easier to spot.
Image description: a series of photos taken of 2 dogs. One of the dogs is brown and white (Woofus) and the other is white with black spots and blotches. In the photos, they range from day 1 to the present and they are often seen laying on a chewed couch, cushion or in the throws of destruction.
