Fat Golden Retriever Novels & Stories

They had left the house for a walk with their pet dog, Lois. “ Girl, over here. We stopping for a bit.” Tricia whispered and Lois nudged her. They both took their seat while Lois hovered around with her tail high up in the air. She had been excited to go for a walk and now that they were here, she wagged her tail happily with her tongue hung out. She was a Golden Retriever about fifty-eight pounds. Dark golden color, she had been living for two years now. “ I'm all ears, Tricia. You wanted to say something.”

Even the floor tiles were a combination of white and grey, the couch black, the table grey and everything else somewhere in between. A barking sound reached my ears, and I looked around. My eyes caught glimpse of a Golden Retriever, its fur light golden and nose and eyes dark black, sprinting through the hallway of the second floor. It came running down the stairs, missing the steps and almost slipping down. Its expression was of pure excitement. I’d never seen a dog this happy.

She would love her baby to see how his daddy behaved, too. "Don't give him too much. He will be overweight in a bit if you keep rewording him so easily like that." She warned him. "Didn't you see his eyes, Wine? I can't stop myself. He's so cute and adorable when he makes puppy eyes like that. Don't you think he can get taller, not fatter?" "No, he is a Yorkshire terrier breed. He won't get much taller than this. And too much treat making him fat. You are spoiling him."

’ The little dog looked around, eyed Murad rather suspiciously, then spied Irene and trotted towards her. ‘She’s a Bichon Frise. They used to be favourites of French Royalty, trust Olivia,’ he said wryly. ‘But they’re a gentle, cheerful, non-hair-shedding breed. She’s about nine months old and well trained.’ Josie sat down in front of Irene and looked up at her out of beautiful melting brown eyes—eyes that would melt a heart of stone. ‘But—but how come?’ Irene had difficulty with her voice as she raised her eyes to his. ‘I don’t understand.’

A big, furrу, drооl-сrеаtіng, frіеndlу monster. Hе wаѕ аlwауѕ lісkіng and bеggіng for аttеntіоn. April wоuld tеll mе this іѕ whаt Gоldеn Rеtrіеvеrѕ аrе lіkе; they’re fаmіlу dogs.

“Hey buddy, I haven’t seen you in a while.” “Gunther? The dog’s name is Gunther?” I bend down, letting the husky mix sniff me. Riley barks from inside the house and I quickly go up the porch stairs, unlocking the front door so I can let the golden retriever out to greet his buddy. The dogs excitedly jump at each other, tails wagging so hard their whole bodies wiggle.

I stood up, adjusting my cufflinks, ready to see the name Caleb in black and white. [ANALYSIS COMPLETE] [SUBJECT ID: CANIS LUPUS FAMILIARIS] [BREED: GOLDEN RETRIEVER] [MATCH PROBABILITY: 99.8%] I stared at the screen. My brain, usually a precision instrument, stalled. "What is this?" I hissed, the coldness in my voice replaced by a rare, jagged confusion. "Sir," Dr. Aris said, sounding equally bewildered. "The DNA sample... it’s not human. It’s canine. Specifically, it appears to belong to a very healthy, three-year-old Golden Retriever."

oh Goddess . the scent of her is a delirious mix of smells and emotions and memories: a wild run through pine forests, a plunge into cool water, the mewls of a newborn pup, the madness of the moon's call ... The other two wolves pad after her. Fulvio's giant ginger wolf (though he insists its gold-coloured) and Graydon Airwolf. Graydon seems so much younger in his wolf form. Elder hardly seems right though he has the same air of restrained power as in his human form.

It was so strong it sent me flying back against the tree and I slid down onto my ass. I sat on the ground dazed until something cold and wet touched my face, nudging me. When my vision cleared, a beautiful dark gray wolf came into view. His golden eyes looked at me with concern, but I was too mesmerized with how beautiful he was. He was much darker than other Delta 1s. His darkest gray is charcoal, with hardly any white. There's a little below his chin slightly spreading onto his muzzle, and a little on his chest. Gray is mixed in with it so much that it barely looks white. His golden eyes stand out against his dark color, making them look like they are glowing.

“Beautiful dog. What's his name?” She gives a gentle tug of his leash and he stops walking, planting his fuzzy bottom on the ground and staring up at me with a smile while his tongue hangs out of one side of his mouth. “Her name is Goldie. I know, it's not original.” From the way she says the words, I imagine she has to defend her choice very often to strangers. “I think Goldie is a beautiful name for a golden retriever.” I glance down at the dog. “Hi, Goldie!” Her tail starts thumping on the sidewalk and her owner smiles even wider.