No Brain Cells for Riggs

            I have had the pleasure of meeting and playing with all kinds of different dogs through work, friends, and family. For me though, the best kind of dog in the world is the Golden Retriever. My family has owned three of them and each one of them was beautiful, friendly, happy and dumber then animal should be. How these dogs survived and thrived is beyond me. So much for the survival of the fittest. My family and friends all have this joke about the intelligence of Goldens’ that the breed has one shared brain cell, that gets passed around from dog to dog. I’m beginning to doubt they even have that. Even if there was this alleged brain cell my dog Riggs is never allowed to have it.
            I may have mentioned this briefly before, Riggs, hides in the bathroom. Not just when there’s a thunderstorm, or when the nail gun is in use, or when you can hear the hunters shooting, or fireworks (when these things happen all Hell breaks loose). I mean he hides in there all day, every day, for no reason. He lives in the bathroom. After my Dad, Riggs’ version of God, leaves for work, the dog slinks into the bathroom and shuts himself in. Of course, being a Golden Retriever, Riggs is too stupid to figure out how to come out of the bathroom even if he wanted to. He doesn't even whine or scratch at the door. He just sits there waiting for someone to remember that he exists and come looking for him. One night when Dad came home from work we all got very busy prepping supper and settling in for the night we totally forgot about him. It wasn't until later that evening we realized Riggs hadn't come bounding in to great his wondrous God. Dad quickly opened the bathroom door and only then did the poor dog explode with excitement and gratitude.
            On a normal day though, once Riggs is freed from self-imprisonment he acts like one of those parasitic fish you see on TV that latch themselves onto a shark. He tries his very best to become one with the nearest human. You sit down on the couch with your book in hand, when suddenly you find an 80 lb Golden Retriever in your lap. Which would actually be fine if he then didn't proceed to roll around and trample all over you. So you stand up and try to shake him off. Then he tries to hug you. He stands on his hind legs and literally gives you a hug. Which again would be adorable if he only did it once, or even on cue. But he does it, and then refuses to get down or stop hugging you. When he’s in one of these moods you can’t even walk five steps without him latching on to you. Once you've made it clear you don’t want him all over you, he becomes visibly upset and starts circling around and leaping all over the furniture. Then if he’s really upset he starts grabbing things and carrying them around in his mouth; usually shoes, socks, dishtowels, and of course bras. Nothing is classier then greeting guests with your human’s bra.
            I think he does this because he can’t handle life. Life is just too stressful for Riggs. It’s a hard life living at a farm with lots of space to run, lots of food to eat, and having another dog friend. Especially when his God has to leave him for a whole 8 hours! Still, it’s stable. Riggs while he sulks all day in the bathroom is generally good. Until you change something on him. We've recently done some remodeling in the house, and that means lots of noise, new people, and new smells. It’s a lot for the brain cell to take in. One of the things to change was to us very minor. We had one of our hallways converted into a closet. We all didn’t think too much of it. But Riggs did. Riggs stood, his head nearly pressed against the back of the closet for a full 20 minutes. His little brain cell couldn’t take in the removal of the hallway and he was stuck. Perhaps if he just kept staring this new wall it would disappear. We had to physically pull him away before he realized he couldn’t walk through the closet.
            Riggs is always surprising us with new levels of stupidity; whether it’s barking at one of us because he didn’t realize we came home 20 minutes ago or knocking over lamps with his tail. Even while I write this I can hear my mom yelling at him to “Get down! What’s the matter with you!” Clearly Riggs is not allowed to have the brain cell. Ever. Still, he’s the best dog ever. We may not think that at 4 in the morning when suddenly he has to go out. But we do think he is when we walking through the door and he runs up and hugs you, so happy you’ve returned to him. I may want to strangle him every time he steals one of the my shoes and hides it. But whenever I’m feeling down he climbs up next to me on the couch a giant furry ball of love. Golden Retrievers don’t have a single brain cell between them, but they are all made of heart.