Mind the Gap: Conquering the Pyrenees

By Phil Cobb | August 25, 2026 |

For the sake of clarity, I am not of a mountaineering ilk and not referring to the major mountain range in Europe. Any thoughts about conquering anything that requires my climbing it are limited to stairs, high sided vehicles (even with a running board), and my high mattress bed that requires me to do a Fosbury flop to get in it. No, dear reader, I am referencing the large breed of fluffy, usually indolent, canine who has been my companion for the last seven years. Her name is Zoey. Of underdetermined age when I rescued her it becomes obvious Zoey is now a much older lady with ambulatory issues – this makes her my spirit animal as she has hip issues, legs that wobble a bit, and likes to nap a lot…refer back to my previously mentioned stairs, vehicles, and beds. She is me. Sadly, her weekly outings to the daycare have been curtailed as she can no longer make the climb into my vehicle. Socially this is not a problem as she slept the whole day anyway, but what has become a problem is this is where she got her regular bath and de shed treatment.

If you are familiar with the Great Pyrenees you know they shed, a lot. I know I am prone to exaggeration but when I use the words “swathes,” “waves,” “clouds,” and “drifts” to describe what she deposits on an hourly basis, I exaggerate not. If we shaved her bald as a billiard ball she would still deposit fluffy debris throughout the house. Added to this, her day long naps take place under the deck (muddy), an old chicken house (very muddy) and the large hole she has dug after a heavy rain (liquid, very muddy). She is now, a dirty dog.

Not one to back down from a challenge, and deciding that a mud encrusted massive heap of fur is not exactly the feng shui that makes for a charming cottage home, I headed to the local hardware store and purchased a jumbo bottle of dog shampoo – fresh lavender scent…lovely. I was also bolstered by the fact the temperatures for weeks have been straight from Hade’s doorstep so I was not going to freeze my baguettes off during the outside wash. Armed with the spray hose, shampoo, de shed tool, dressed in my best old clothes all I needed was the dog. That was a bit tricky as she did not seem keen and firmly sat down. A combination of my pulling and a massive tush push finally got her onto the deck. Victory! I began.

After a few minutes of de shed I was in a white fur tornado, the deck looked like I had field dressed a sheep, and all the local squirrels were rushing around gathering piles of fur to make cozy cottage squirrel dreys. I then lathered, rinsed, repeated, lathered again. My running commentary consisted of, “Good dog… don’t shake, aghhhh…stand still…please don’t shake…I forgot towels! Don’t, aghhhh!” If the neighbours ever fancied I was barmy, they now know for certain.

And then we were done. I stood the conquering hero. Saturated, blobbed all over with globs of wet fur, shampoo lather dripping from my elbows, but triumphant. We both limped into the house, for a drink – Zoey water, me a large gin and tonic, and headed for a nap. Another day, another mountain climbed, onward and upward I say!

Anne Davies-Speer is a columnist for The Maryville Forum.