My wife and I first met Charlie in a park in January 2024. First impressions were very positive. He was tall, lanky, and beautiful. We were told he was a Labrador retriever and Great Pyrenees mix. We could see that immediately. He was hesitant to leave the back of the SUV he’d arrived in and, once on the ground, he let me walk him a bit. Then plopped down at my feet in lazy protest. At about 90 pounds, I couldn’t simply lift him into submission, so we coaxed him with treats. That worked. He tried once to get into our car. So it’s obvious he was eager for a new home.
The woman he’d been living with told us he’d come from a neighboring state where he had been abandoned as a puppy. Apparently, he’d been found at the side of the road and, since he was undoubtedly an adorable puppy, found an immediate home with her relatives. As he grew, however, it was obvious his size and energy level far surpassed the ability of the young couple with young children to manage him. So, this woman brought him to Maryland and the local rescue was contacted.
It wasn’t easy to simply let Charlie climb back into his own vehicle and go back, but we needed time to talk about him, and we wanted to schedule a time for him to meet our high school-aged daughter and our grandchildren. That happened a week later and went about as well as we could have expected. Charlie calmly let Sophie walk him around the park and, while he stood to her waist and could have easily pulled her right over, he seemed unusually calm and cooperative—especially for a puppy. She was smitten, but my wife and I were oddly uncertain about agreeing to bring him into our home. But we said “yes” and drove down the following weekend to pick him up.
The Charlie we brought home that day was a very different dog than the one we had met twice before. He was still friendly and had the same puppy clumsiness that was so endearing, but his energy level was off the charts. We tried to let him decompress in our home before meeting other family members. We bought him toys and worked to get him immediately into a routine for meals, sleeping, walking, etc., but he was a challenge from the start.
Gone was the lazy dog we had walked around the park. Instead, Charlie bounded crazily back and forth from pieces of furniture, barked angrily, and began nipping at all of us (tearing clothes and skin). We had procured a massive crate to help control him, but he fought when we tried to get him inside. I let him out in the back yard where he immediately began digging holes and running across the pool cover. Then he would not come back inside. My wife fixed his food and we begged and coaxed for an hour until he decided to come in and eat. When I got out his harness to walk him (double leashing for safety), he nearly pulled me over trying to get to the door. Outside, he pulled me right to the ground and then slipped from his harness and ran away. Fortunately, a neighbor up the street had the sense to take hold of his collar when he came to investigate their dog. That night he jumped up on our bed and then wouldn’t let me in, growling when I approached. I slept in the guest room. We kept our bedroom door closed after that night. Day one in the books. And it was nearly the same every day after that.
A few days later our rescue called to see how it was going. We were honest. We told them two things: (1) we were in over our heads; but (2) we loved Charlie and we would do anything we could to help him succeed. The rescue said she was now convinced that Charlie had been given sedatives as a way of calming him to help get him adopted. We were shocked. That was not something we could do to him, and we told her we were determine to find a way to help him without drugging him. She was pleased because it was obvious from what they’d heard about him (which was very little) his chances for any sort of permanent home were limited given his size and his temperament. We were, according to them, “his only hope.”
We continued to do what we could to work with him. He continued to jump and nip and bark (sometimes continually for hours at night), to dig, and chew. Only I (or one of our adult sons) could manage him enough to walk him. But it never got much easier. As he gained weight, he’d pull me right down on the grass and he ran away about once every week or two. We had to de-worm him, treat him for digestive problems, and yet somehow he endeared himself to us in his misbehavior. He was obviously a good dog but he didn’t know how to “BE” a good dog. And now we loved him too much to abandon him.
We worked with three different trainers. They’re not cheap. Nor is it a quick process. First one. Her answer to everything was simply give him more treats. Then two. She suggested a longer lead that he tangled in my legs and tripped me at one point. Then, finally, on the third try we found someone who expressed positivity about working with him following their initial evaluation of him. She’d come by the house and we’d work with him in the yard or we take him for walks. There were many times she took videos on her phone of me trying to control him. When asked, she’d say, “they don’t believe me when I tell them how difficult he can be.” And he was, too. Months passed and soon it was May. Charlie was still mostly unmanageable. But we couldn’t give up on him.
Out of desperation (before our training budget was exhausted), Charlie’s trainer contacted a friend who she said was an expert in working with large breeds. She came by and worked with Charlie and suggested the now 100lb boy was simply too “bored” being a family dog and he “needed a job.” This isn’t something we’d considered before. Great Pyrenees are Livestock Guarding Dogs (LGDs) and have been bred to watch and protect sheep and goats. That explained all of what we had assumed as his “misbehavior.” Given his own “pack” with which to belong and something important to occupy his time, he could be happy. This trainer has her own goats, a few other dogs (including two large breeds) and a small farm, and suggested she take Charlie to see if it changed his personality. We agreed to give it a try, and we consulted our rescue organization who OK’d the change based on the trainer’s reputation of success.
We always wanted Charlie to be happy. And now we know he is. As our rep at the rescue told us afterward, “I hope you know your family helped Charlie in ways you may not even know. You were a bridge to help him move from what could have been a very dangerous and potentially dismal life to a place where he can be truly happy.” I guess we hadn’t thought of it that way. But we’ve never regretted our part in his life. We’ll never forget him.
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UPDATE April 2026
Nearly two years since Charlie found his new life, we received another note from his new Mom. She wrote that Charlie has grown even more. He stands as tall as her hip and weighs over 100 pounds. She has trained him to go to schools in the city and talk to at-risk kids about how to treat dogs and how to train dogs. She said “he has an awesome purpose for his life and I just think he found what he was meant to do.” He has a special friend at her house that is like his twin and she sent a photo of the two of them snuggling together. He’s happy indeed.
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