Golden retrievers are generally considered bright. At the very least, they are extremely trainable because they are so willing to please. But for some reason, I only have come to live with the golden retrievers who are a few milkbones short of a box. And I mean that with all the love in the world.

Who, me?

Brooks, for example, was the sweetest, gentlest, kindest, most amazing golden I’ve ever been lucky enough to share a home with. But he couldn’t turn himself around if he walked into a corner. This is true. After a surgery, when he was wearing the cone of shame, he got himself stuck in the doorway and just stood there. He didn’t back up, he didn’t try to maneuver out. He didn’t even bark or whine for help. He just stood. Thankfully, I was home and could help steer him through the doorway. I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t been home, how long he would have stood there.

Here’s Brooks with his cone. I think he’s asleep.

Well this brings us to Ike. Last night, Ike got stuck under the bed. Yup. Stuck. Under the bed.

About 3am I was awakened by the sound of toenails scraping against a wood floor. If you are anything like me and have a crazy imagination and also are afraid of anything that moves after dark, you can imagine what sprung to mind when I heard the sound of toenails scuttling under my bed. What kind of creepy eight-eyed slimy green monster was under the bed, anyway?

Turns out that Ike had somehow gotten all 70 pounds of himself under the bed, and couldn’t get out. Ike has his own cozy bed to sleep in, and he usually starts out there, but during the night he might get up and sleep in Kelly’s bed, in the hall, or on the floor beside our bed. Since our bedroom is pretty small, there isn’t much wiggle room between the bed and the wall, just enough space for a golden retriever to lay down. But if he wiggles in that wiggle room, then somehow he must push himself under the bed.
I know. It happened before.

Ike hasn’t quite got the hang of this bed thing.

So I got up and pulled Ike out from under the bed. He didn’t do anything to try to help me out either, just laying there dead weight. I pulled his hind leg a little and part of him slid out. Then I crawled around to the front and pulled a little. I had to reach under the bed and lower his shoulder so that it could fit back out from the bed frame, and pull on the front end a little more. This was no easy feat with me crawling around on my hands and knees in the dark. But I got him out, and he wagged his tail and jumped up on top of the bed.


Much safer. I only hope he won’t fall out of bed.

Has your dog done something silly, or let’s face it, dumb, lately?