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Animals We Love
May 19, 2009
Scotty Richardson is the proud dad of a pack of Golden Retrievers. He has been a member of the Golden Retriever enthusiasts e-mail list for going on fifteen years, and over those years he has written with love and humor about his fur-kids' antics -- some silly, some sad, some scary. We have had the honor of getting to know and love his pack with every letter. This month we are pleased to share with you a few select letters that show the evolution of the Richardson's canine family and let you fall in love with the courageous Becky, sweet Peggy Sue, lothario Earnie, goofy Burt, glamorous Porkchop.
You'll see the letters in the order they were written (the date is at the top of each mail). Also, Scotty's kids have more letters after their names than most college professors (and might be twice as smart!). They are all therapy dogs. I'll throw in what those titles mean in the appropriate, and hopefully unobtrusive, spots.
If there is an animal in your life that you’d like to tell us about, write me. If we use your story we'll send you a free pound of cookies!
The Richardson Goldens . . . Snapshots in Time
Spring is in the Hairrrrr
Date: April 2, 1996 1:34:27 PM PST
I'm so choked up as I write this. No, I'm not overcome by emotion. Read on. And rest assured, I will not use the word "poop" in this post.
Ah, spring! The birds are singing, my wife has planted her yearly quota of bulbs, the grass is green -- and the girls are blowing their coats.
Achhhhh!
Hair in my food, hair on my clothes, hair in my mouth, everywhere but on my head, where I could use it.
Today -- today I made a **real** mistake. Off to the garden store via the freeway with the new 70 MPH speed limit [close to wide open for a VW van]. Both the girls happily riding along. Becky hunting cows, her favorite travelling sport. The sun comes out. It warms up in the Hairmobile. I open the window ---***mistake***!!! WHOOOOOSSSHHHH!!!!!
We all disappear in a cloud of dog hair! I can barely see to drive! We weren't expecting warm weather. Didn't expect to open any windows. Left the surgical masks at home. Surgical masks are an essential accessory for Golden owners who drive with the windows open during coat-blowing time. Sure; it looks a little funny driving along wearing these things. So what. I wasn't handsome to begin with. Stare, you idiots. You don't have the pleasure of owning two [very] hairy Goldens.
I pull into the right lane and slow to 55 MPH and close the window. The hair settles. Folks behind us are wondering what that huge cloud was emanating from that VW van. Probably just another engine fire. Sure, engine fires are annoying, but VW vans just do that once in a while. You learn to live with it.
We are home safely now, I will once again break out the air compressors and blow out most of the hair from the Hairvagen. Life goes on. If neither of us is hospitalized with a hairball, it wasn't such a bad day!
Becky [Whoa! Where the heck did all that hair come from? Peggy Sue, are you shedding again?]
Peggy Sue [Don't blame me, you idiot. Probably came from dad. Look at his head, I think the rest of his hair just blew off.]
Michael & Scotty Richardson
The Golden Girls [OK Wade?]
Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach
Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet
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Danger! The 3 AM Thirsties! :-<
March 14, 1999 11:33:06 AM PST
I wake up thirsty. Probably last nights Chinese food. Myopically I peer at my wrist-watch. 3 AM. 
Hmmm. Milk, I need milk. I must make my way to the kitchen. Sounds easy enough. Oh-so carefully I roll back the covers, so as not to disturb the Sleeping Dragon. This cheerful, diminutive blonde life-mate of mine is *not* cheerful when awakened at the wee hours. Next, I worry about where the dogs are in the dark. Becky is predictable. Always lays at my side of the bed. I place my foot over the edge, feel for her. I stretch and slide over her, and make my way out to the end of the bed. Now it gets dicey. Blonde colored rug, dark room, two blonde dogs-- somewhere. I begin the "Golden Shuffle" across the bedroom. Those of you with multiple Goldens know this as a combination of the old "Vaudeville Chicken Strut"; and Michael Jackson's "Moonwalk". Slide one foot slowly forward, feel for a dog, slide the other foot up to the heel of the forward foot. Oops!
My big toe finds a tender portion of Earnies anatomy. He makes a sound resembling a diesel air-brake, and bolts into Peggy Sue. Peggy Sue freaks out, certain we're under attack from Nazi forces, and ricochets off my right hip, throwing my left hip into the corner of the dresser. I open my mouth to shriek in pain, then remember one must not wake the "Sleeping Dragon".
Slowly I release the air through clenched teeth. Peggy Sue is upset. I re-assure her, kneel down and hug her, all is forgiven. I arise in the dark and reach for the door. Someone has moved the bedroom door 3 feet closer to the center of the room than I remembered in the dark, I stub my little toe on the doorjamb and bonk my forehead on the door. My cheeks pooch out with air in another attempt not to scream. The "Moat Monster" still slumbers, amazingly. I make it out to the hallway. Should be clear sailing from here on. I fail to see the badly gnawed nyla-bone in the dark. My full weight descends on it in the form of my left heel. Once again, I suppress a shriek as I bunny-hop down the hall, muttering epithets to make a Longshoreman blush. I was doing OK until my right foot found the Giant Kong in the dark.
Down I go, onto my knees. I put my hand out to catch myself, one of Earnie's many tennis balls squirts out from under the side of my palm. I do a face-plant on the carpet. I am now in a fetal position, face down, butt up, naked in the living room, in the dark, muttering most if not all of the many curses I learned in my 23 years on the Waterfront. It occurs to me that CNN may be filming this, the way my luck is going to this point. I pick myself up, and make it to the refrigerator. Now it gets sticky. I look out the window. I listen carefully. All is quiet. I am about to perform a uniquely male ritual. Drinking directly from the milk carton. My bride places this right up there on her list with urinating off the deck, picking your nose, and discussing last nights bowel movement at the in-laws Sunday Brunch. If caught, she refers to the "Wife's Handbook of 2,347 Ways To Make Hubby Miserable", and picks a punishment to fit the crime. Again, as the refer opens and the light shines full upon my naked body, I worry about reporters outside photographing this. I can see the next days headline: NAKED MAN DRINKS MILK FROM CARTON ON BERNIE DRIVE. Paranoia. I drink deeply. I then discover that all the hair on my face is not part of my beard.
Apparently during the face-plant I picked up a dust buffalo or two. I pick the worst of the hair out of my mouth, and wash the rest down with another gulp of milk.
Yuck.
I then make my way through the darkened house, careful to avoid all the many mine fields laid by the dogs. All is well, until I try to open the bedroom door to return to the warm cozy bed.
Something is blocking the door.
It opens 3 inches or so, no more. My Son, Earnie, has moved his 80 pound carcass against the door and isn't willing to move. I poke and prod through the crack. No dice. I whisper "move, dammit"! Nada. I get on my knees, and put my shoulder to the door--I slide the miscreant out of the way, careful not to wake "Godzilla" from her slumber.
Made it!
I do my best Guerilla Jungle crawl from the foot of the bed back to get under the covers.
I lay awake wondering -- just what *does* dog taste like, anyhow?
Earnie [Stoopid CLOD! Kick me in the middle of the night! I'll get even!]
Peggy Sue [Arrrghh! Attack! Attack! Sound the alarm! Oh, it's you, dad. Sorry.]
Becky [What's all the fuss? I slept like a log!
Michael & Scotty Richardson
The Golden Gang!!
Becky; The Red Scourge of Squirrels, Feline Track Coach; TD; CGC
Peggy Sue; Pixie, Lover of Every Creature; Fecal Gourmet A.A.T.D; TD; CGC
Earnie; Marriage Test, Woobie Shredder, General PITA; TD; CGC
Living in SW Washington State; USA
ed's note: TD Therapy Dog, CGC Canine Good Citizen, AATD Animal Assisted Therapy Dog
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Bubblewrap Your Dog!
October 24, 2005 2:27:31 PM PDT
Ok, listen up out there. Once again, Professor Expresser has stumbled upon an incredible discovery. This could revolutionize the entire dog training world. Might work on some kids, too. I know it's made me jump a few times. Today, while working in my Laboratory I was wrapping some fragile stuff in sheets of bubblewrap. You know, the plastic stuff with all the air filled bubbles that's such a hoot to play with. Into the room sauntered the ever gregarious, slightly warped Burton, our wild child. He had this "gee I'm so glad to see ya, what ya doin' mister" look. Until he stepped on a sheet of bubblewrap I had on the floor. Burt was outa there, peering around the corner to see what was after him. Now -- Burton is not timid, as those who've met him will agree. Just the opposite. While out around the town, he walks across sidewalk elevators, manhole covers, practically NO surface ever bothered him. Unlike Earnie, who, when he had his eyesight, would NOT trod upon a manhole cover, even under threats of mayhem and death. Now that he can't see, well, he has no more problem. Back to the bubblewrap! Does your dog jump on you? On strangers? Just wear a layer of bubblewrap under your clothes. It's a great insulator, too, although you may appear to the general populace to have bulked up a bit. Plus it's lots of fun if you're a hugger. Or if you're trying to cure a hugger. Your dog get on off-limits furniture??? Bubblewrap! Does your dog, like Burton, charge the front door and mug anyone passing through? Bubblewrap the hallway! Plus, I heard a rumor that it's great fun to make love on. You think? I know, there are plenty of uses for bubblewrap I didn't cover. Use your imaginations. Happy to help.
Earnie [That stuff scares the pee-wadding outa me. Like walking on little firecrackers!] Burton [Hoo boy, was I ever high-steppin' it outa there! The floor has gone mad!] Porkchop [Snicker. Dumb boys. It's soft to lay on, and you can pretend you're in a bowl of Rice Crispies!]
The Adventure dogs!
Earnie, CGC, TDI, TDIA, TDIAOV, PFTD, SD
Porkchop PFTD, CGC, TDIA & Burton, CGC, TDI, PFTD
Living In SW Washington With
Scotty & Michael Richardson, OF
ed's note: CGC Canine Good Citizen, TDI Therapy Dog International, TDIA Therapy Dog International Active (50 visits), TDIAOV Therapy Dog International Active Outstanding Volunteer (150 visits), PFTD Pet Facilitated Therapy Dog, SD Service Dog.
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Short Trip
November 30, 2005 11:00:59 AM PST
One AM. I awaken -- nature call. Plus, I have a headache. Bummer. I slide carefully out of bed, look back, try to be sure I haven't disturbed my wife. She looks funny in the darkened room. Weird profile. I reach across the bed, find my hand on Burt's butt. I have been sleeping less than two feet from Burt's big blonde butt. Gross. Guess I was snoring, Michael left for the spare bedroom. Sigh. 
OK, we have three Goldens. Tossed around our bed are six dog beds. The dogs have many choices about where to sleep. Still, OUR bed is better. Amazing how a 75 LB. dog can get on the bed and not awaken me. Floats like a butterfly, I guess. Ah well, take a tinkle and some tylenol, kill the headache. I stand on the floor, smack in the middle of an unoccupied dog bed. One more dog bed left to negotiate between the bed and the bathroom. My vision without glasses is bad -- but the bed appears to be vacant. I step through that bed, the way looks clear.
As I attempt to negotiate the last few feet to the bathroom, my left foot comes in contact with a dog. Darn! I swing my right foot high, hoping to not trip or hurt the dog. Too slow. It takes a human one second to raise that right foot and step over the dog. But a sleeping dog can stand completely erect in a half second from a sound sleep.
My right foot does not clear the dog. I realize that I am doing something humans are supposedly incapable of. I'm flying, my heavy upper body leaning toward the dresser and the wall at an impossible angle. I do manage to get my arms in front of me. I crash, hard, into the dresser corner with my one hand, the other hand slides across the dresser top and jams the catch-all bowl of loose change, pocket knives, watches, etc. hard against the wall. The noise is incredible, all that stuff flying into the wall and dribbling behind the dresser. My knee connects with the dresser, I jam the fingers on my left hand.
I look to see which dog I've tripped over, hoping I didn't harm the dog. No dog there. Gone. But with Burt on the bed and Porkchop sleeping on the other side of the bed that leaves, if my math is correct -- only poor blind Earnie. The dog bed nearest the king sized bed is now occupied. I check the dog -- he seems OK. Amazingly, this racket didn't awaken Michael in the next room. I mumble some, jumping up and down until my knee stops throbbing. Tylenol. Pee. Back to bed. I still can't understand how I missed seeing Earnie in front of me.
Neither can he, I guess.
Porkchop [Can the noise, boys, the princess is sleeping.]
Burton [Glad I was out of the clumsy lout's pathway. Mom's side of the bed is so warm.]
Earnie [I can't believe how CLUMSY dad is. Idjut.]
The Adventure dogs!
Earnie, CGC, TDI, TDIA, TDIAOV, PFTD, SD
Porkchop PFTD, CGC, TDIA & Burton, CGC, TDI, PFTD
Living In SW Washington With
Scotty & Michael Richardson, OF
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Count Burtula Strikes Again--
February 14, 2006 12:15:48 PM PST
Poor Blind Earnie is once again being badgered and bullied by the evil Count Burtula. It seems the boys have a busy time about an hour after dinner. Probably on a kibble high. Burton comes up behind Earnie, rears up on his hind legs like a prize stallion, and strikes with open mouth on the back of Earnie's muscular neck. Earnie is nothing if not patient. The evil Count usually gets two free bites before Earnie starts to snarl. After the 4th strike by the evil Count, it's whupass time! Earnie does a quick 180 degree turn, snapping at whatever's in reach. At times like this I give the boys a wide berth. If you're in the way of Earnie's jaws, you WILL be bitten. Yes, it hurts. Most of the time Earnie bites inanimate objects---- chairs, stools, camera bags, and the other night he got a piece of the fireplace screen. THAT freaked him out a bit. Naturally, I'm here to help. I cheer for Earnie. I urge him on shouting things like "bite him in the balls"! Then I remember that Burton has NO balls. They're in a jar on the kitchen shelf. Not sure why my wife keeps them. A form of penis envy, no doubt. Ever see these little guys?? Look like seedless green grapes. Probably it's the formaldehyde that turns them green. Anyway I always look closely at stuff in my salads like olives or grapes. Of course, Earnie has had "brain surgery" too. But the Vet kept his testicles. I bet all Vets have a secret stash in gallon jars on the walls. Well, maybe not. Anyway, removing those little jewels hasn't rendered Earnie any less macho. Witness the hundreds of stuffed bears, sheep, etc. he has loved to death. Then, there's other guy stuff Earnie and I do together. Don't get any funny ideas, all I'm going to 
admit to is keeping the fence-line properly marked. For years now, Earnie has been responsible for marking the East fence line. Me, I mark the West fence line. Now that Earnie's blind, the East side is easier for him anyway. He walks straight out the patio door until he hits the grass. Takes a hard right until his shoulder hits the steps. Hard left, 20 paces, and he's right in front of his pissing post. This is important work, hey. No telling what might come into the yard without the warning markers up. Earnie assumes a very male stance and lifts that leg, even blind this boy is a good shot! Me, on the other hand -- as I age I'm finding I'm less accurate. So I make up for inaccuracy with volume. Two Pepsi's shortly before final potty call provide me with adequate ammunition. I'm a little worried about Burt, though. The other night I caught him marking over me! Almost drenched my Birkenstocks, too.
Gonna have to watch that boy.
Earnie [One of these days I'm going to get a piece of that badgering Burt. I'll eat him for lunch!]
Burton [Ha! gotta catch me, first! Fast as fast can be, you'll never catch me!]
Porkchop [OH__MY__GOD! Boys are SO disgusting. Everybody knows, you don't mess with the Porkchop.]
The Adventure dogs!
Earnie, CGC, TDI, TDIA, TDIAOV, PFTD, SD
Porkchop PFTD, CGC, TDIA & Burton, CGC, TDI, PFTD
Living In SW Washington With
Scotty & Michael Richardson, OF
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Blind dogs & Squirrels
February 17, 2006 12:07:07 PM PST
I took Earnie for a hike earlier this week. We have a paved trail below our home that allows us as long a hike as we want. I decided on the usual 4 mile round trip. This takes us through a lot of woods. After helping Earnie down the dirt connecting trail which is steep and has a lot of drop-offs I decided to take him off-lead. He's been SO good at interpreting my commands since losing his sight. What the hell. Give the boy some freedom. We walked to the halfway point with little trouble. If he was veering off the beaten path my command of "easy, easy" slowed him and caused him to check for the edge of the blacktop trail. The trail traverses a steep ridge and there are plenty of places one could take quite a spill. But Earnie was so darned happy, just trotting along in front of me as if he could see! Made my heart feel glad! There are two huge fields at the halfway point where I have taken the dogs to retrieve tennis balls for the last 11 years. Earnie knew right where he was and even went out into the field and did the "predator" look -- as in "hit the balls, dad". Alas I feared for his safety for the field has a lot of gopher holes where he might sprain a leg running blind. So we headed back. Earnie was trotting about 10 feet in front of me when a squirrel shot out of the bushes and ran right across the trail in front of Earnie. I had no time to think about it --- Earnie immediately turned hard right and dove off the trail in the general direction of the squirrel. What a nose!!! Alas, where Earnie dove off the trail it's steep and covered in blackberry vines. Earnie didn't get far. He was so tangled up in the brambles I had the deuce of a time extricating him from the bushes. Once back on the trail, I pulled umpteen thorns out of him-- and then off he trotted, as if nothing had happened. Fortunately we encountered no more squirrels. Only the one, with a sick sense of humor. Perhaps that squirrel was a relative of 
one of the squirrels killed by the Earnie & Becky team. Now he's even--!
Earnie [I smelled the little rascal. Squirrels must die!]
Burton [I fail to see the point of chasing squirrels. ]
Porkchop [Yeah, Burt & I sit and watch them. They're sort of cute!]
The Adventure dogs!
Earnie, CGC, TDI, TDIA, TDIAOV, PFTD, SD
Porkchop PFTD, CGC, TDIA & Burton, CGC, TDI, PFTD
Living In SW Washington With
Scotty & Michael Richardson, OF
