There is something about the human condition. I don't think dogs are like "If only I was a poodle instead of a golden retriever, I'd be totally happy." Dogs are happy with who they are.
I have my golden retriever now, Pontiac. He's a career-change guide dog from Guide Dogs for the Blind.
I was raised by a single mother and I've been in a 10-year relationship with my girlfriend. My whole life I've been surrounded by women.
Fatty, a bearded collie-terrier mix, is the kindest, cuddliest dog. And Oliver, a white golden retriever, even looks like me! My dogs have taught me to be more loving, more nurturing, and happier.
I never thought of myself as being a genius. I don't know what genius is. I think a far better expression is a retriever, a lovely strong golden retriever that brings things back from the past, or retrieves things from our common blood memory
I've often been described more than once in my life as very much like a golden retriever: just sort of happy and excited to do whatever it is, even if it's as simple as retrieving a ball and bringing it back ad nauseum.
I've often been described more than once in my life as very much like a golden retriever. Just sort of happy and excited to do whatever it is even if it's as simple as retrieving a ball and bringing it back ad nauseum.
I am the planet's most affectionate life-form, something like the cross between a golden retriever and a barnacle.
Once someone has had the good fortune to share a true love affair with a Golden Retriever, one's life and one's outlook is never quite the same.
I'm a werewolf, not a golden retriever.
The face of a golden retriever feels like home.
There was a golden retriever who saved countless lives on September 11 by going back in to find people. His companion was in a wheelchair. He got him out and kept going back in to save others.
I have four dogs - Sadi, a Retriever, and Oscar, Ruby and Bella, who are Yorkies.
I learned hard lessons in life; I had to because I had so much happen: My mother died my sophomore year in high school. The next year, same day, my brother dropped dead. Two years after that, I got married because my girlfriend got pregnant. The year after my wedding, my father - who I had only recently met - died.
A few weeks after my surgery, I went out to play catch with my golden retriever. When I bent over to pick up the ball, my prosthesis fell out. The dog snatched it, and I found myself chasing him down the road yelling "Hey, come back here with my breast!"
I have, year after year, been named the most bipartisan member of the whole United States Senate. I have proved my independence.