Quotes About Golden retriever

We threw chew toys to Misty, Mom's golden retriever that she bought two years ago secondhand. Misty was supposed to be a seeing-eye dog, but she failed her exam because she's too affectionate. It's a flaw we don't mind.

The face of a golden retriever feels like home.

I am the planet's most affectionate life-form, something like the cross between a golden retriever and a barnacle.

I am the planet's most affectionate life-form, something like the cross between a golden retriever and a barnacle.

I call my golden retriever Cara my 'white wolf.' She's changed my attitude and made me write this book where the wolf is the hero, not the villain.

I've been surrounded by dogs my whole life. I got a golden retriever a year after I was born.

I am very benign-looking. I'm somewhat like a golden retriever: It's not hard to look at me. I'm perfectly fine. It's not like things jut out and make you nervous. But the lovely thing about being so pale and having such pasty features is that I can look like pretty much anything, which is nice.

The big one was at least cute, and as annoying as she was, you couldn't get mad at a golden retriever.

When I started working in commercials, I quickly learned some rules for hawking products: 1. Audiences like their soda in frosty mugs. It should look straight out of Santa's Village. 2. People respond to cereal floating in foamy milk. 3. When lapping up soup, viewers like to see kids dressed in cable knit sweaters by a fire. 4. A golden retriever in the background never hurt the sale of anything.

So when the moon's only partly full, you only feel a little wolfy?" "You could say that." "Well, you can go ahead and hang your head out the car window if you feel like it." "I'm a werewolf, not a golden retriever.

The great blind King sat his ass back down. And if you were any other living thing you might say he sulked a little. His lower lip pouching out. His brows sinking lower. Then in a bid to calm himself, which he would of denied,he reached down and petted George. That golden retriever was the sunshine to Wraith's thunder.

The great blind King sat his ass back down. And if you were any other living thing you might say he sulked a little. His lower lip pooching out. His brows sinking lower. Then in a bid to calm himself, which he would of denied, he reached down and petted George. That golden retriever was the sunshine to Wraith's thunder.

I also go on long walks with my dog, a golden retriever named Breeze-and I work out with weights at a health club a couple of times a week.

While I was gone Hugh, Manuela, and Dario attended Franck's surprise fortieth-birthday party. One of the guests was a sophisticated mother of three who announced that she hated the zoo at the Jardin des Plantes because it was cruel to keep the animals in such small cages. She went on and on and then, at the end of the evening, she unlocked her car and released her golden retriever, who'd spent the last six hours in the trunk.

While he watched, the phenomenon diminished. The whirl of leaves settled, and the night grew still once more. As the last leaves floated to rest on the grass, John thought he heard a familiar sigh of pleasure, one he hadn't heard for a long time. If this had been a ghost, it had been a blithe spirit. Filled with sudden wonder, remembering their golden retriever that had died two years earlier, John whispered, "Willard?