Wynter - Reunited 1/2/25

✔️✔️ WE GOT WYNTER!! ✔️✔️

Our first trapping of 2025 was nothing short of unforgettable, and it brought safety to the most stunning Great Pyrenees we’ve ever laid eyes on. Wynter, as we named her, is a picture of beauty and resilience—her thick, snowy double coat and gentle demeanor a bittersweet contrast to the hardship she endured.

This journey began in a small community where a trap had been set months ago for a lab mix that, sadly, stopped showing up. Instead, a new face appeared on camera—a white goddess of a Pyrenees, skinny and underfed. It was clear she had been neglected for far too long. Volunteers in the area, along with our team, began feeding her, but rumors soon spread that her longtime roaming companion had been struck by a car. We knew it was time to act.

Once a rescue stepped forward, Beth and I headed to the area to set the trap. As we waited, sharing a Bojangles butter biscuit (a trapping tradition at this point), Beth spotted Wynter prancing gracefully through the woods. But that night, she didn’t take the bait. She disappeared into the darkness, leaving us wondering how much longer we had to get her to safety.

The next day, Sharon and Joyce joined in hopes of catching her, but Wynter remained elusive. Her inconsistency was becoming a growing concern, and time felt like it was slipping away. With no other choice, we decided to pull a late-night shift in a pinewood forest that looked like something out of a horror movie. Rows of perfectly symmetrical trees stretched endlessly into the darkness, and the eerie silence made the mission feel even more urgent.

As fear gave way to determination, the door finally closed on the trap, and Wynter was ours. The adrenaline surged as we heard her barks echoing through the woods. Joyce parked in the middle of the road while Sharon and I raced into the forest, armed only with our cellphone flashlights. We couldn’t see our hands in front of our faces, but all that mattered was getting to Wynter.

When we reached her, we could see her fear, her confusion—and then, her relief as we reassured her that everything was going to be OK. She was no longer alone. She was no longer vulnerable. She was safe.

That night, Wynter slept on a soft bed for the first time, no longer curled up in the mud trying to stay warm. As we sat in that pinewood forest, surrounded by the unknown, nothing else mattered but the fact that we had saved another life. Wynter’s days of roaming and struggling were over, and her new life was just beginning.

No more laying in the mud to stay warm, Wynter. You’re safe now, and your future is as bright as the snow your name evokes. Welcome to your new beginning. 💙🐾