If there ever was a story that should be told, it is the story of a golden lady, Starfire Legend. She is the most beautiful dog in the entire world. Her coat is a gorgeous shade of gold, the color of wheatfields or the shining gold light reflected in a falling crystal raindrop. The delicate fur that covers the expressive ears, is very soft, like the down of a baby duck, and the ever-moving plumed tail is like strands of spun gold. There are few things more satisfying that watching all 83 pounds of golden dog run like the wind over the land, her feet look as though they never touch the ground, almost as if she is gliding on the breeze. She becomes a streak of golden flame. You can see inside her soul by looking deep into her brown eyes. They are a window to her every thought, her every emotion. Inside the dark pools, you can clearly see infinite saddness, the essence of unconditonal love, or the wonders of joy.

She has an elegance about her that many dogs lack. She knows that she is royalty, that her ancestors were some of the finest golden retrievers that ever lived, almost all champions in the show ring, and those who did not have champion titles in that area, were well known field champions or masters of the obedience trials. Starfire has all of the traits to make her an all-around, wonderful dog. She has natural retrieving instincts, is blindingly beautiful, and acts like a well trained dog, although she has never been taught anything formally in her life. It has not been necessary, anything I need her to do, she does on her own, all I have to do is ask, and my wish becomes her command. I do not know of many other dogs that are like this, and have heard many horror stories about untrainable dogs. Many times I have been asked by distressed dog owners, how I managed to tame and train such a giant dog. I recieve strange looks when I tell them that I never trained her, she just knows what I want and does it. I think it roots in trust. I trust her and she trusts me. She is not just my dog, but my friend, my companion. Star knows when I am feeling down, and reacts to that by trying her best to comfort me, just as I comfort her when she is having rough times. When I am happy, so is she, she parades around me, waving the golden, plumed tail, and holding in her soft mouth, very gently, her favorite red ball, which is decorated with golden stars. She rubs her body against my legs, like a cat, leaning on me, and deep within her chest comes a deep rumbling sound, that resembles a purr. She is simply telling me that she wants to play retrieve the ball, that she loves me, and that it is great to be alive. I understand all of this, by her actions, and reading the look in the brown eyes, just as she senses my emotions.

It is the purring and the leg rubbing that led to the invention of one of her many nicknames, the Lioness. I call her this when she rubs her giant body up against me, or when she decides to lay in the sun for a nap, and rolls over on her back. She peers at me lazily, just to check to see if I am still somewhere in the yard. I also think of her as the Lioness when I gaze outside to check on her and she is lying on her stomach, the front paws crossed, the noble head held high, quietly observing the surroundings, and the tip of the flowing tail twitches occasionally. Her other nickname is Princess, because she is spoiled, I will admit that, and it is partly because she knows that she is from royalty, and insists that she is treated as such. She has never been to a dog show in her life, and is far too large to even qualify, not only in weight, but body size. Princess expects to be fed first, from the largest dish, and the other dogs are not allowed to eat until she is finished or until she graciously allows them to, after all they are mere peasants and should be thrilled that the ruler of the dog universe allows them to eat in the same world with her. The two white, fluffy spitzes are forced to watch her majesty eat while they sit and starve. If one advances toward a food dish she turns and chases them off, or in a flurry of gold and white, tackles them and pins them on the ground for a few minutes, as she sits on the disobediant, surf until she decides that he can be released. Then and only then, will she raise her giant body, and walk very slowly, back to her equally huge food dish to continue eating, the tail raised in triumph the entire time. There is no doubt who the dominant dog is in this household, it is the big golden lady, who is also affectionately refered to as Wonderful, and she agrees with me, that Wonderful is the best name of all for her, because she is just that.

Star is also a terrific listener, and is one of the few creatures in this world that will put up with my singing, she even enjoys it. Sometimes there is a verse from a Dio song that is just so ingenious that it has to be shared, and she listenens and then lets me know what she thought about it, by a wave of the tail, a prick of the silken ears, or a nod of the noble head. Star is also in the tiny group of beings on this planet who truly understand me. I talk to her alot, (that has saddled me with the reputation of being weird, but I do not care, I know she understands me, and what I am talking about, even if no one else does), and we have had many conversations over the past few years about everything. She hears all of my problems, and of everything that gives me joy in this life. Deep inside, I know that she already senses it all, but it comforts me to tell her anyway and she does not seem to mind. There is always a response to what I say, if I am sad, and relaying a tale of sorrow, she willl place her head in my lap, and gaze up at me with liquid eyes of saddness, as if she understands and feels the pain as well, and if we are sitting in the swing in the yard, she will lean against me slightly, and tells me in her own way, that she is there, and if it makes me feel better, she will allow me to wrap my arms around her strong neck and hold her, and it always comforts me. If it is joyful news that I am telling her, her eyes will light up brighter than the sunniest morning, and her tail will wag fiercely in excitement. The golden dog might not understand every word I say, but she does sense my emotions, if no one else knows, she does.

The elegant one, is also a good judge of character, and she loves those that she is close to, and tolerates the rest. Most believe that she is a very affectionate dog, and that she is showering them with her love, because she licks them, and tolerates a few pets with a gracious wag of the tail. It is true, that she loves attention like this, after all, she is the ruler of everything, and her subjects are supposed to be pleased to be in her royal presence, but she does not just love them at first sight. Anything other than a few pets is not considered to be acceptable, from visitors. Any further attention is ignored, after all she has given these strangers from a foreign land enough of her time. She will just sit and watch and tolerate a little affection for a little while, but she never seems excited and grows bored quickly. However, if it is one of her favorite people, she goes nuts, and runs up to the fence to await in anticipation their arrival. Her tail is set into motion, and becomes a golden blur arousing dust from behind. If it is someone she has not seen in a long time, she trembles a little with excitement, and when they finally reach the fence, she greets them like they have been seperated for years. Her tail becomes dangerous, it is swinging around so violently, and she completely absorbs every pet and kind word. There are also many people that she just does not like, on instinct. She then growls menacingly, and her growl is intimadating, a deep, loud rumble, resembling the sound of the angry thunder. If they approach her domain, she will charge up and down the fence, bounding with huge leaps, and then suddenly stop and pierce the silent air with several sharp barks, that echo her size and strength.

There are few dogs that are as good on car rides as she is. Her favorite thing is to retire to the floor board of the back seat, or else sit in the passanger seat in the front and gaze silently out the window, watching the world fly by. She does not try to cause any kind of commotion, nor does she move about much while riding in the car, and any dog owner knows that this is a rare blessing. One of my other dogs, the rambunctious Tundra, takes great delight in trying his best to have the car wrecked. He attempts to sit in the driver's lap, climb out a partially open window, and if the window is up he will claw at it, and before you can stop him, he disappears underneath the driver's legs and then sticks his head up in the hole in the steering wheel, and before the little terror can be caught and calmed down, he vanishes for a moment, only to reappear in the backseat, leaping around and running in circles. I have tried, and tried to teach Tundra a few manners, the proper way to ride in the car, the correct way to greet guests (that does not mean to jump on them or land in their lap), and the right way to behave in general. He never listens. The only thing that he excells at is walking on a leash, he does not weigh much anyway, and he is like taking a butterfly out on a walk, because there is not much on the other end of the leash except a ton of hair and a tiny dog, so walking him is not a problem. If he gets out of hand, a tug of the leash is enough to jerk him back into reality. Star is a different story, I cannot force her to go where she does not want to go, with a yank of the leash. She trots at her own will, wherever she wishes to go, she goes, and drags me along behind her. This is not a bad thing, I don't mind being walked by my own dog, and if we are not on our usual route, then she lets me lead the way through the unfamiliar territory.

I think that one of the most amusing things about her, is that when she was a little puppy, she had a passion for taking naps in her waterdish. When I first brought her home, I bought her a huge, plastic, blue water bowl, that was larger than the puppy herself. As soon as I would refill it with cool water, she casually take a few laps at the cold water, and then flop right in the middle of it, and look up at me with those brown eyes as if to say "This feels so good!!!" In less than a week, she was larger than the dish, but she still took enormous delight in plopping right in it, with her front legs dangling off the end. She was wet all the time, and it is a wonderful thing that the princess loves water so much, because I can just imagine trying to force all 83 pounds of her to hop into a tub of water for a bath if she hated anything wet. I can just see the look in her eyes "Are you crazy or something? Me? Get into that?" with the tail drooping to the ground in disgust. Instead I am greeted with a huge golden retriever smile, and the look of complete joy when she confronted with a bath. To her, a bath is nothing more than an excuse to play in the water that she adores so.

As you can probably tell, I am quite fond of my dog. She is one of the most wonderful creatures that has ever been created. She is beautiful, and gentle, and full of life and personality. Star is more than a dog, but part of the family, and we have shared many times, both good and bad. She is my companion and my best friend. There are few things in this life that I truly love, and she is one of them.