Banjo

11/24/87 - 8/13/97

The pain of losing Banjo was more than one can imagine. Banjo was no ordinary dog. Banjo was unique. I have never met another dog like him and I don't expect to again. His intelligence was nothing short of astounding and it made him an extremely complex individual. Had Banjo had offspring, he might have been considered a canine evolutionary milestone. Banjo was a thinker with a capacity to reason not normally considered part of his species. This at times made him moody as he would ponder his situation, particularly when he was bored. Yet, his eyes, constantly darting around, searching for input, even with his head to the ground belied an extreme intelligence and curiosity about his environment, and his mood and mine. He could look at you and see into your soul, and thereby you into his. His ability to understand operated at almost a telepathic level.



Banjo had such a regal stature. He could easily have been a show dog, holding himself in a posture as proud as any dog in a king's court. His beauty brought attention from nearly anyone who saw him. Once we exchanged phone numbers with a couple that had a very nice looking female golden. They were very upset when we decided to have Banjo neutered - but we did so to improve the quality of his life, and because we believed that with all of the homeless dogs, it made no sense to bring more puppies into the world.

Banjo never needed any formal training. He was self educated for the most part, taking his cues from the subtleties of our interaction. He potty trained himself quite rapidly. He learned how to use a doggie door with little input from me - it was quite apparent to him. And yet he would expand on the intuitive knowledge with experimentation to figure things out. Although he understood the doggie door concept quickly, he wasn't content with that. He had to figure out how to bring a stuffed toy, at that time approximately the same size as he, in and out through the door. He taught himself to push it in front of him.

He never needed to be on a leash, although for his own safety at times we would use one. Several years ago, just for fun, we took Banjo to an obedience training class - not because he needed it, but because we thought he'd get a kick out of it. And he did. It was all so easy for him, that the instructor singled him out and used him as an example for the other participants.

I could take Banjo anywhere. He was equally at home by my feet at the sidewalk café, at friends' houses, (he loved the attention he got at parties) at the beach, in the car at the bank drive through (expecting a treat of course), on long trips, etc. He always responded to my voice, and always tried to understand what I wanted.


Banjo certainly had a light side and was the ultimate show off. At a fairly young age, he decided that stuffing as many toys into his mouth at once was quite a feat, and he would use it to show off. He was able to get up to 4 tennis balls into his mouth at once - something we did not teach him to do, and he would do this, particularly when there was an audience of people, so he could strut around and show everyone how proud he was of himself.

He would walk around, swishing his tail end, quite the prima donna, knowing he was pretty hot stuff. He also delighted in stealing toys from Sutter, my older (and mentally quite a bit slower) golden. Sometimes he would have a couple of stuffed toys in his mouth and one or two balls. He was even able to hold a large softball and two tennis balls on the side, his thin jowels expanding to hold them all.

Banjo would pick up toys to show off. He would also do it to get attention when he was scared. If I batted a mosquito against the wall, he would get very agitated and pick up a bunch of toys and start bugging me with them. If he did something wrong, like grab a piece of food out of my hand so quickly that my hand got nipped in the process, he would pick up a toy and start walking around with it while breathing hard. Thus, the toys were objects that Banjo could transfer emotional outlet to - in fun, fear, and folly. He particularly liked to be chased when he carried toys. Out in the front yard, we'd chase him all around, while he cleverly eluded us by quickly changing direction and running past us. In the house, he'd love to be chased from room to room, easily outsmarting us as we changed direction or our running pattern.

I remember the day, quite vividly, when I took him home. I wasn't even certain I wanted another dog at the time - it had been only a little over a year since Brandy, my previous golden retriever had died. As a surprise gift, I was driven out to Chico California in the Sierra foothills to Pat and Robert Littell's house - their dog Cleo had puppies, one had been reserved for me. When we got there, the house was filled with golden retriever puppies, running all over the place, peeing on the carpet, napping, crawling over each other, etc. The Littels were great since they didn't care - they loved their dog and they loved those puppies.



While playing with the puppies, there was one that stood out, and it wasn't the one that had been selected for me. One puppy, a little darker than the rest, was extremely friendly and came right up to me and started chewing on my finger. The other one that had been earmarked for me acted fairly disinterested by comparison. I decided right there that "Bud" as he had been called up to that point, was for me and the Littels agreed to the substitution. We were told that Banjo had been the first puppy out of the weaning box - the first one interested in exploring his new world. He was curious, energetic, and obviously very smart. But his intelligence and ability to bond would continue to grow as rapidly as he did, until it was nothing short of remarkable.

On the way home, we stopped by the side of the road to see if we could get him to relieve himself. As if he were a much older dog, he did so, almost on cue from us. We then climbed back into the car, already amazed at this little 3 month old genius, and continued the long drive home.

The first night, concerned about his lack of potty training, we made up a bed in the kitchen and closed the door. He cried so, being left alone for the first time in his life, that we couldn't stand it, and we went and got him and brought him into the bedroom. There was a small space, only a few inches, between the headboard of our bed, and the wall. He promptly squeezed into that space, which was secure (and difficult to reach should we change our minds) yet very close to us, and went to sleep. We let him sleep back there from then on, until he got too big to fit.

During the day while at work we did have to leave him in the kitchen, but he had access to the back yard once we put in the dog door (which he quickly learned how to use). The kitchen was somewhat unfinished, with the linoleum exposed on the edges where it curled up against each wall. One day we returned to discover that Banjo had figured out how to grab an edge of linoleum and rip it across the floor. He had pulled up huge strips of linoleum, completely destroying most of the kitchen floor. Served us right for leaving him all day.

He also destroyed a couch. Well, it was an old couch so we didn't care that much. But he figured out how to start a hole in the middle of it and gradually helped himself to most of the stuffing. Eventually we moved the couch out to the back yard where he could continue to work it over.

I remember taking him and Sutter on walks up into the Richmond Hills. Banjo unlike our older dog Sutter, never needed a leash. We would walk until we came across cows that were grazing. Banjo was always curious about the cows, yet sensing my apprehension, kept his distance. Sometimes he would charge up the side of a hill, particularly if there were pinecones to look for. Sometimes I would toss pinecones down the hill, and let him take off at high speed to find and return them.

Banjo was a pacifist. He was never in a dogfight in his whole life. Not that he couldn't defend himself - as a large healthy Golden Retriever he presumably could have, yet he chose not to, always turning his back on any kind of aggression. This invariably took the wind out of any other dog's sails - perhaps a good lesson for us all.

Banjo was great on trips, and we tried to take a lot of them. He loved the beach and while in California we tried to get to one as often as we could. There were cabins we rented in northern Sonoma County a number of times, across the road from the beach. We would take the dogs down to the beach where they could play with long pieces of seaweed and run in the surf. We took him to the mountains as well - he loved the snow and the back country.

Once, at the Russian River in Sonoma County California, we stopped at a restaurant to have dinner. After a while, we heard people laughing and pointing out the window. A car horn was also honking. We went to look and it was Banjo sitting in the front seat of our car, with his paw on the horn.

Once, he fell asleep sprawled across the bed in a motel and we didn't have the heart to wake him so we slept on the floor the rest of the night.

After moving to Oregon, life on the farm was fun for Banjo when he was outside. When one of us worked out in the garden or greenhouse, Banjo learned to look for gophers. He soon realized that simply digging for the gopher was too time consuming, he decided it was faster to use his mouth to churn up the ground. He would put his nose into the gopher hole, hold it there and take a number of deep breaths to pick up the scent. Then he would grab the edge of the hole with his mouth and rip the ground up, alternately digging and ripping dirt out with his mouth. Ultimately his mouth would be full of dirt and his tongue black before he would give up.

He also loved to chase squirrels. He once saw that a squirrel was hiding out in the wood pile so each time we went out, he made a beeline for that woodpile. Then he would head for the well house where he had also seen a squirrel go. It didn't matter how much time passed between the time the squirrel was first spotted, he'd know exactly where he wanted to go. Champoeg State Park was a favorite of his - particularly because of the squirrel population.

There are a great many things about Banjo I will miss. Here are but a few: