It's a Marshmallow World in the Winter

It's no secret that my affinity for dogs runs deep. At the Sez household we were dogless for over a year after saying goodbye to Buddy - possibly the greatest dog who ever lived - and decided to take on the journey of finding a new dog this past fall. On that journey I've learned two very important life lessons when it comes to dogs: (1) Finding the right dog for your time, place, and situation is difficult at best and (2) separation anxiety in dogs is a very real thing with no clear solution.

Before a stroke of luck landed Buddy in my lap, Mrs. Sez and I would regularly visit the local SPCA to see what dogs were available. We learned then that the dogs that wind up at these places are not the type to gamble on when you're trying to start a family. This time, I started by scouring the internet for dog rescues and found that going this route is...just as difficult. There are tons of reasons for this. A few examples: Dogs that appear to be within reasonable driving distance of you rarely are in reality; people posting dogs available for adoption often know as little as you do about the dog; the picture painted by people directly caring for the dog may be different from the picture you experience in person; as a family we have a relatively lengthy list of needs in a dog; I was spoiled rotten by Buddy.

Just before Christmas we ran through the gauntlet review process to adopt a mutt that seemed just right for us, only to meet him in person and discover that he was far more aggressive than was advertised, at least in front of us. I was on the brink of losing hope until a large, white, fluffy miracle was brought to my attention by one of the rescues that I was calling regluarly. Marshmallow was described as a Great Pyrenees who recently was brought up to the northeast from Texas. He was a bit bigger than the size range we were looking for, but he was calm, good with other dogs and kids, and not a barker. With those key boxes checked, we met him in late January and brought him home the same day.

The big fella was friendly and enjoyed attention but not in an obnoxious way. He was mostly stoic with a perpetual serious look on a face that could go undefeated in a staring contest. Oh, and he LOVED snow. The only thing that seemed to amp him up was fresh snow, which we had in abundance. He'd run around like a maniac in the stuff until he was content to just lay down in it. Marshmallow was unlike most dogs I had ever met, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

The name Marshmallow - which had only been bestowed upon him when he came up north - stuck, mostly because the kids didn't want to change it. There are many alternatives I would have preferred: Leche, Yeti, Yeti Kong, Blanco, Whitey, Falkor (for The NeverEnding Story fans), Blizzard, Jughead, Colada, etc. But Marshmallow is good enough. He proved to be a big, white ball of sweetness, even if he needed to learn some manners and be a little more aware of how big and strong he was. That was the easy part.

Once the deep freeze in the heart of winter started to thaw out, we discovered that there was a flipside to the stoic calmness that Marshmallow exhibited when we were around him. If left by himself at home, he was a different beast altogether. Even in the ten minutes it took to get the kids to the bus in the morning, we would come home to a barking, panicked, slobbering mess. It would take a half hour for his breathing to return to normal.

Our efforts to keep him sane when we left the house were no use. He busted through gates we would set up. A crate made him even more crazy, and then he figured out how to get out of it. Puzzle toys and Kong balls meant nothing to him if he was by himself. At one point he tried to exit the house through the windows in the living room, destroying the blinds and curtains in the process. Even medication had little effect.

We brought in professional help in the form of a dog trainer. We've learned lots of useful techniques to help Marshmallow and have also learned a lot about Marshmallow himself. Based on his breed - which best I can tell is somewhere between Great Pyrenees and Italian Sheepdog - his separation anxiety is less about a fear of being alone and more about his deep-rooted sense of duty to defend and protect his flock. When there's somebody or something around to protect, he's perfectly content and on the job to keep everyone safe. When that's not the case, he feels has no purpose in life and loses his mind in anxious rage.

This protective instinct also makes the Mallow Man quite stubborn and reluctant to do what you tell him. In his mind, he knows exactly what he needs to do and prefers that you just leave him alone and let him do it. When trying to teach him commands, especially early on, he would respond with exasperated huffs and puffs. Once we stopped asking him to do things after a training session he would retire to the landing on our steps and let out one last extended sigh. We've now dubbed the landing the Pout Platform.

All of this made for an interesting winter at the Sez household. We're a family who likes to get out and do things, even in the dead of winter. Marshmallow made that an impossibility this year. Maybe staying home for a little while was exactly what we needed and we should thank the big white beast for that. As the weather has warmed up we've gotten used to taking him with us wherever we go. Maybe that was his plan all along. Slowly but surely, he's getting used to us leaving him alone in brief spurts. We're hoping that continues.

At the end of the day, Marshmallow is a great fit for us. He's a smart, stubborn, lazy, anxious, loyal, loving, and lovable creature who can be infuriating one moment and then an utter delight the next. Everybody in my family exhibits these same traits from time to time. Why should the dog be any different?

When we had to say goodbye to Buddy I knew that we would never have a dog as good as he was. Despite Marshmallow being a very good boy the vast majority of the time, that still remains true. I rest assured that he's trying his best, just like we are. After all, we've only had him for about four months now. With a little faith and perseverance by next winter we'll all have a Merry Christmas.