Jay

My story

Ah yes, Jay — the strong, silent type… emphasis on silent. If you're looking for a dog who’s going to sprint into your arms, smother you in kisses, and instantly become your emotional support animal — keep scrolling. Jay is more of a “we just made eye contact and that was enough social interaction for today” kind of guy. He’s the introvert’s introvert, a quiet soul with the emotional complexity of a Jane Austen character. He’s soft. He’s sweet. He’s emotionally reserved but deeply observant. Jay isn’t here for your party tricks or forced cuddles — he’s here to learn what love feels like, one cautious pawstep at a time. Jay is a 2-year-old, 72-pound Great Pyrenees and former member of our charming Oklahoma Cities litter in 2023 — a happy, playful floof who had the world in his big ol’ puppy paws. He got adopted, grew up, and… somewhere along the way, life got hard. We don’t know what happened exactly, but the happy little guy we sent off came back to us anxious, overwhelmed, and clearly carrying some emotional baggage. Jay was also diagnosed with Idiopathic Trigeminal Neuropathy — a temporary condition that affects the muscles involved in chewing and jaw movement. Sounds scary, but don’t worry: it’s self-resolving and doesn’t cause pain. He just had a little trouble eating at first, but with some vet care, canned food TLC, and cheerleading from his foster, he's now doing way better. Also — and this is very important — his tongue? It might just be out. Forever. The “blep” may be permanent. And honestly? We think it adds character. He looks like a thoughtful philosopher who forgot how to close his mouth mid-monologue. It’s adorable, slightly ridiculous, and probably going to be his thing forever. Like a model with a signature smize — Jay's is the blep. Jay may never be the life of the party. But if you’ve got a quiet home, a patient heart, and an appreciation for the softest boys who are slowly rediscovering their courage — plus a healthy sense of humor about living with a dog who constantly looks like he is sticking his tongue out at you — Jay might just be your guy. Jay is not exactly the life of the dog park party—he’s more the guy standing near the punch bowl, awkwardly laughing at everyone else’s antics while slowly making friends with the other wallflowers. He gets along great with puppies (because they don’t expect deep emotional conversations) and is starting to engage in some casual, no-strings-attached play sessions with Chewbacca, the Shar Pei mix and fellow PPFT alum. It’s giving “slow burn bromance. As for cats? We don’t have any in his foster home, but his previous family said he did just fine with them. And judging by how gently he exists in the world, we’re guessing he’d let a cat smack him in the face and then apologize for being in the way. He's got "submissive to a loaf of bread" energy. Jay hasn’t been around kids recently, but again—his previous life had them, and he reportedly did well. That said, this guy startles like a Victorian lady confronted with electricity, so calmer, gentler children would be more his speed. The kind who read books and speak in whispers. When it comes to people, Jay is all about quiet observation. He’s not going to rush into your arms like a rom-com love interest at the airport. Instead, he’ll linger at a distance, mentally taking notes, until the moment he decides you’re safe. Then — usually around bedtime — he’ll appear at your bedside like a ghost with attachment issues, silently declaring, “I choose you. But don’t make it weird.” He’s quirky, cautious, and carrying a little emotional baggage — but if you're the patient type, Jay might just become your most loyal (and bleppy) shadow. If Jay were an animal hybrid, he’d be the result of crossing a sleepy deer with a paranoid librarian—graceful, quiet, and always kind of looking over his shoulder like someone just spoke a bit too loudly. Most of the day, he’s giving quiet poet vibes, but unleash him in a yard with some puppies, and suddenly he’s starring in his own nature documentary. (Narrated by David Attenborough, obviously.) As a road trip buddy, Jay’s pretty low maintenance—no dramatic vomiting, no panic pacing, and absolutely no embarrassing backseat karaoke. He handled both vet trips like a very polite passenger. Honestly, a 10/10 car companion, would recommend. Leash walking? Let’s call it “cautiously cooperative.” He’s not dragging you like a deranged sled dog auditioning for the Iditarod, nor is he collapsing into a limp puddle of protest. When it’s time to go somewhere, he quietly goes along, wandering what awaits him. Is he an adventurer? Not unless you count stepping three feet out of his comfort zone as a thrill. Jay can be energetic and playful—especially outside with dogs who understand his gentle-guy vibes—but he’s not volunteering as tribute for your Saturday brunch circuit. He’s more of a homebody, happy to keep your crate warm and your backyard squirrel-free. Jay’s overall temperament falls somewhere between “soft-hearted poet” and “retired emotional support llama.” He doesn’t want to be the center of attention—he just wants to quietly exist near people who don’t expect him to be anything other than exactly who he is. But once he chooses you? It’s with quiet loyalty and soft devotion that could melt even the iciest heart. Favorite activities include supervised yard time (where he valiantly warns the squirrels to stay in their lane), and carefully placed naps. He enjoys proximity to other dogs, especially Chewbacca, his foster brother, but only when there are no expectations beyond “we sit near each other and vibe.” He also enjoys existential reflection, long sighs, and surprising his foster dad by creeping into his room like a fuzzy ghost of emotional progress and climbing on the bed to hang out. He’d thrive best with a securely fenced yard where he can keep watch over the local squirrel mafia. Apartment life probably isn’t for him unless your building is incredibly quiet, calm, and all delivery people are trained in stealth mode. Jay may be reserved, but he's not broken. He's just… emotionally complex. Like a moody novel character who finds healing through the power of friendship. If you’ve got the patience to wait for the real magic—you’ll find a sweet, soulful dog with a permanently lopsided tongue and a heart that just wants to be safe. Jay is, in fact, potty trained—because while he may be emotionally delicate, he’s got standards. As for the crate? Jay treats it less like a cage and more like his private spa suite. He willingly goes in at bedtime, especially if there’s a treat involved, and often lounges with the door wide open like he’s waiting for room service. Jay is far too dignified to lower himself to chewing your shoes, remotes, or that suspiciously delicious corner of the coffee table. Destruction simply isn’t on his résumé. Jay may look like a quiet, introspective soul—and he is—until his puppy friends start barking. Then suddenly, it’s breaking news at full volume, and Jay’s all in, lending his voice to the cause (whatever that cause may be… probably a leaf blowing across the yard). He’s not the leader of the bark brigade, but he’s definitely a joiner. If you’ve made it this far and find yourself oddly charmed by the fluffy butt with the never ending blep face and someone who just needs someone to believe in him, congratulations—you may be exactly Jay’s type. Just know that this level of quiet nobility with bonus blep doesn’t come by delivery. You’ll need to fill out an adoption application at https://www.pyrpawsandfluffytailsrescue.com/adoption-app and physically come to Tulsa, OK to meet His Royal Fluffness in person. No teleportation. No drone drop-offs. Just you, a car, and a heart ready to earn the trust of a slightly anxious gentleman with resting philosopher face.

If you have any questions or would like to adopt Jay, please reach out to the adoption group directly. PetSmart Charities does not facilitate the adoption process. Thank you.