I tried to put Moose on a scale the other day. He's not yet 6 months old, and he's pushing 70 pounds. Stopped putting him on the bed at night, because I can't pick him up (and he's too chicken to jump) so he sleeps in his crate at the end of the bed.
I caught him playing with Atlas today. That is a feat in itself. Atlas doesn't play. He's a very serious dog, with an important job to do. But here they are.
Atlas and Goliath are Great Pyrenees, and small ones at that. they are both slightly under 100 pounds.
They caught me watching them, and decided to come in and say hi. Of course, Moose was playing the whole run in. Here they are you can sort of see a comparison of Moose's height next to Atlas and Goliath. He's not as tall as them, yet, but he's thicker than they are. Atlas and Goliath are a LOT of hair!!
I just like this action shot. Altas managed to get Goliath in the middle, so he could avoid Moose's nips on the run in.
Here's my Moose, once he settled down with a stick to chew on.
I can't say how much I love Moose. I know that Hobbes' loss is what made the room to bring home Moose, and I miss Hobbes every day. But there is so much silliness and sweetness in this puppy. He has a GREAT life on the farm. I think we have finally taught him about chickens, and he hasn't killed one in a few weeks. He's been a good boy about that. Now, I think digging is going to be an issue in the spring, but he's really sensitive, and doesn't like being scolded.
He's really patient with Shannon, she literally climbs all over him, and he just puts up with it. I think he was a good addition to our farm, and I am very thankful for him.