Despite having a pedigree a mile long, and being descended from national and imported champions, Albert was a rescue job. He was one of two dogs belonging to my brother in law’s family, father and son, both pedigreed Golden Retrievers, and when this family was forced to move to smaller premises, they realised they could only keep one of the dogs. They asked us whether we would take Albert, as he was the younger dog and would cope with changing families better. Of course we said yes, and Albert came to live with us. He had been with the family since a little puppy, he had been the pick of the litter, and given to them, as payment instead of “stud fees”.
It took approximately 10 hours travelling from his former home to ours. He was not used to travelling, and he spent the entire time on the front seat, with his head in the driver’s lap, dribbling. The whole 10 hours. He was a bit shaken by the whole ordeal, but once he was introduced to Jessie, our black labrador, he thought he was in heaven. Here was a playmate, she was friendly, and he was VERY happy for her to be the boss. He was used to letting his father call the shots, so he felt very much at home. They became firm friends almost instantly. They looked lovely together, she a shiny black, and he a lovely gold.
Shortly after Albert’s arrival, an acquaintance of ours who had a female Golden Retriever, asked us whether we would let Albert sire a litter of puppies. We agreed, and Albert went off to their place for a few days to do his “work”. Jessie was grief stricken. She had just found a wonderful friend and playmate, and he had disappeared. She thought he had died, and she really mourned. Albert, however, thought he had died and gone to heaven….After the appointed time, we brought him home. Jessie was beside herself. He was back! Oh she was so happy, and wouldn’t let him out of her sight for quite some time, she wasn’t letting him get away again. They became such good friends, they were like soulmates. They were always together, and rarely fought over anything. Albert knew his place, and he knew she was the boss…..
Albert, being a Golden Retriever, was very loving. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He loved going for walks, he loved chasing rabbits. He loved being with us. He was also intelligent, but he didn’t want anyone to know. It would spoil his image, so he acted dumb. But we realised it was all an act, and my daughter took it upon herself to teach him some manners, and some “party tricks”. The first thing she taught him was to take food politely. Food was very important to Albert. He was used to having it thrown to him, and if you offered it to him in your hand, you would be likely to see your hand disappear up to your elbow as he tried to grab whatever you were offering. So she taught him to wait till you put it in front of him, and not to snatch, and that the food would not be thrown to him. He learned it very quickly, and we pretended not to notice. Then she taught him to open the door. Most dogs we had would just charge the door, and of course it had to open from pure brute force. Not Albert. He would come up to the door, look at it, and then push it with his foot. If it didn’t open, he would push it harder, but it would open, and he would parade out with a big smile on his face.
He also made good friends with Max the cat. Max would see him out in the yard, and he would deliberately go out of his way to talk to him, or rub himself on him. He would never do this with Jess. If Albert was asleep somewhere, Max would curl up with him. Albert also befriended Bilbo, during Bilbo’s short stay.
Then as they got older, we found Jessie was becoming ill, and in due course she died. Albert was heart broken. He really mourned her loss, and got thin; we were really worried about him. We paid him extra attention, and he rallied, and went on without her. This left him as top dog (well the only dog really) and he wasn’t really sure how to cope. One of Jessie’s duties (well she thought it was…) was to “mother” the joeys. At every available opportunity, she would wash them, and generally look after them. This was done discreetly, so as not to worry the joey. Albert thought he should take over. However, he had problems….he was not discreet. He would just confront the joey, as it to say keep still while I lick. The joey would see this great lump of dog, and take off in fright. Fortunately, Albert realised this wasn’t working, and just gave up…..
Then Gypsy arrived. Albert was entranced by this tiny little dog….another female, and another friend! Before too long they had settled into a very easy and loving relationship…and Gypsy was the boss. She became his companion into his old age. And then Nolan arrived, and Gypsy was still the boss…and Albert was at the bottom of the pecking order, where he was happiest.
By this time he was getting old. We were told that Golden Retrievers live till they’re 10 to 12. He lived to be nearly 17, and he was really well almost to the end. He slowed down a lot, but he still wanted his walk, even though it was a bit much of an effort to actually chase the rabbits now, he still wanted his food and he still took part in life; just slept more. But we knew the end was coming, so all the kids came home to say goodbye. Then one day he didn’t want to eat, nothing would entice him. It was time to do what had to be done, and we did it humanely. We could do nothing else for such a loving friend. We laid him to rest next to his beloved Jessie. It was a passing of an era for the kids, the end of their childhood ties, but not of our memories….
Mamaroo's Diary 