An Introduction to Me !

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The Beginning of My Life

I'm a bit fuzzy about my early life. Mostly what I remember is that it wasn't so great. I was born sometime in the spring of 1999 (Larry says it was April Fool's Day, but I think he's making a joke) and lived with people who had no business taking care of a dog. Well, they hardly took care of me at all. Sure I was a pain in the butt. I was a puppy after all. But they could have learned to work around that. They didn't. Fortunately, they stopped being stupid after a while and gave me to the dog pound in Hartford, CT. Their only cool feature was that hey had a motorcycle. At least I think they did.

The people at the dog pound were much smarter and recognized I was a Golden Retriever and should be properly cared for. So they sent me off to the Yankee Golden Retriever Rescue. That's when things started to perk up. This really nice lady named Angela took care of me. I'm sure many others as well, but I remember her the most. She helped me learn a few things about behavior and generally gave me the love I deserved. She also worked very hard to find me an nice home. I think she did a pretty good job. She deserves a few licks.

Finally, in May 2000, two really cool people came to check me out, Larry and Hazel. Well, they were kind of old, but they seemed nice enough. They took me for a walk in the woods and threw some balls for me. After a while, they put me in the back of Larry's car and took me off with them. I had a good feeling when I got into the car. Larry had already bought a nice gate so that I would be secure in the "way back" of his station wagon. Things have mostly been ok since that day.

The first stop wasn't my new home, actually, but was to the house of my cousin, 'Becca and her family. 'Becca's mom is my Hazel's sister. So we had dinner or something with them and 'Becca and Larry took me for a bunch of walks. It was fun, but I really wanted to check out my new home.

Life in My New Home

Eventually we did get to our new home, and it seemed pretty nice. Larry and Hazel knew that I might be a bit unsettled, so made sure that I didn't get lost by keeping me in the kitchen for quite a while. They also gave me a nice kennel in which I could feel safe when no one was home. I got to sleep up stairs with them. That's nice. I get to smell them all night long. Heaven!

My new house also had a nice fenced-in yard. I just loved to wander around it and check things out. Most days, Larry or Hazel would take me out back and throw balls for me. Larry also threw a lot of balls inside while he was sitting on the couch. Occasionally he hit something he shouldn't have. It's awfully nice of him to get into trouble over me.

One of the first things Larry did with me was to take me to disobedience school. The school was run by a young man named John who was mostly interested in what is euphamistically called "security" dogs. That means dogs trained to bite people. I don't think dogs should bite people. People, at least the good ones, should be licked. The others should be ignored. Anyway, I'm not in total agreement with John's motivations or methods. On the other hand, Larry and I had fun at disobedience school. We got to meet other dogs and I got to learn a bunch of neat skills like sitting and lying down and heeling and so forth. It made me feel a lot smarter. That was a blessing. My first family made me feel dumb a lot, and that was no fun. I'm not dumb!

Anyway, the only parts of disobedience school I minded were the food-refusal practice and then near the end of the lesson when the place would begin to fill up with the "security" dogs who had a lesson after us. Boy, they didn't make me feel secure.

You may have noticed I talk about food a lot. I love food. Actually, I pretty much love anything I can get into my mouth. The nice people at the YGRR said I was a bit large and that I should be put on a diet. Larry keeps trying, but mostly I've been able to thwart him. For a while I got Kim to slip me snacks. Then when she moved out, I started in on Jessica. I'm afraid, however, that the diet may be succeeding. Although I haven't seen any signs of my ribs in years (thank goodness), I have noticed that I'm beginning to show signs of having a waist. I'm not sure I like that. It's not like I need a waist.

To be continued....

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