What can I say about Dave? The Golden Retriever. I have to clarify that because Elizabeth's daddy is named Dave and there is constant confusion - we yell "DAVE, GET IN HERE" and sometimes wonder who might come running. Although lately, Dave the Dog isn't doing much running. He kind of totters. Dave is fourteen which is very old for a Golden Retriever.
    Even though Dave is fourteen, totters around and is likely to tip over if a hard wind hits him, he still remembers his doggy instincts. He likes to take a morning walk with Grandpa. There was a time when he would trot ahead of everyone else, with Grandpa trailing behind carrying his cup of coffee. Now it is the reverse. Grandpa is in the lead with Dave trailing behind taking frequent breaks. He'll lay down for a while, gaze around the scenery, and just when you think you might have to go back and help him up, he'll heft himself to his feet and continue on the walk.
    Lately, Dave particularly enjoys his morning walks, because each night a herd of deer grazes in our yard, and the wonderful smells that these graceful  creatures leave behind absolutely makes Dave's nose twitch with excited anticipation. One day last fall, on an afternoon walk, Dave suddenly veered off the path and headed into the woods. Grandpa expected Dave to fall down as he climbed over the fallen branches on the ground. Instead, Dave somehow managed to stay on his feet and walked deeper into the woods. Grandpa followed him in, wondering what Dave could be doing. When Grandpa caught up with Dave, Dave was standing over a newly dead full grown deer. A hunter must have shot the deer earlier in the day, and the deer made its way into our woods and then collapsed and died. 
    Dave proudly stood over the deer as if he himself had personally bagged the trophy. Grandpa had to take Dave by the collar and lead him back to our yard and into the house. The excitement must have worn Dave out, because he slept most of the rest of the day on the rug in the kitchen.
    Dave spends most of his time sleeping now, occasionally his legs twitch and with eyes still closed he'll make a muffled woof. No doubt he is dreaming of chasing deer and capturing the biggest one. Dave's doggy instinct still lives strong in spite of arthritic legs and slowed responses. 
    Fourteen is not a bad age for a Golden Retriever. Every morning brings the anticipation of a morning walk with Grandpa, with exciting smells to discover. Every afternoon is the sweet pleasure of a dream- filled nap, and finally at night a supper with grilled chicken that Grandpa makes especially for Dave on the grill.