Holding crackers as a treat, Taylor, age 13, grabs the attention of her dogs:
Cocker Spaniel Twinkle, Golden Retriever Monty, and Springer Spaniel Spot.

14-year-old Liz holding up dog biscuits for her dogs: a Cocker named Twinkle,
Golden Monty & Spot, the Springer Spaniel. She also had a chipmunk named Nibbles.
 

LIVINGSTON TAYLOR

When asked how Ajax got his name, Liv replied: "We decided on it when were driving to pick him up as a pup. I liked the name 'Ajax'; it felt good". Elaborating, Maggie says "Liv named him . . . I agreed . . . . I named him after Achilles' best friend . . . Liv after the cleanser."

Livingston Taylor started his major-label recording career in 1970. Playing guitar, piano, and banjo established him as the Taylor family's most ultifaceted musician. Performance is dear to Livingston's heart, and with his animated personality, wrinkled-grin humor, and musical talents, the stage is where he shines brightest. Liv has been very busy teaching performance since 1984 at the Berklee College of Music, the focus of his new Taylor workshops.

Can I Be Good was written by Livingston Taylor, illustrated by Ted Rand, and published by Gulliver Books in 1993. Here, a young Golden Retriever tried his best to be a good dog, but it's just so hard! He just keeps doing things that get him into trouble, like chewing on Dad's new shoe or splattering his family and the kitchen when he shakes dry his rain- and mud-sodden fur.

TANYA TUCKER

Here is that pup with Tanya and her 8-year-old daughter, Layla. We just adore the love being shared with this Golden cutie.

This film "mixes vintage cool jazz, memories of celebrated friends, archive home movies and dreamy images to create an impressionistic autobiographical scrapbook. A haunting metaphor … for the enduring qualities that represent the best in ourselves and in our fragile, beautiful world"

Pup psychology .... "A Letter to True," structured as a series of letters to filmmaker Bruce Weber's golden retriever, is a meditation on life — especially life with dogs. By Karinne Keithley, Offoffoff.com Bruce Weber's "A Letter to True" is a meandering, affectionate film structured as a sequence of letters to True, one of Weber's five Golden Retrievers. Not really about dogs, the film is suffused with dog-love, and bound by the solid positivity known well to those of us who come home to these wonderful beasts daily. Clips from "Lassie" bookend the movie. "It's a very ... odd feeling ... to be someone's God." Blossom Dearie sings, "I belong to you, and you belong to me." So Weber feels his bond with his animals. War photography, Vietnam, 9-11, Elizabeth Taylor, Martin Luther King and Little Haiti form part of the compendium of things drifting through Weber's letters to the pooch, many of them related to his own photography assignments. Knit together simply by the fact of being part of Weber's life, the trail is no less compelling for being without a thematic center. We pass through pockets of mini-documetaries — about Larry Burrows, who photographed Vietnam for Life magazine, about Dirk Bogarde's medical life. Martin Luther King speaks of leaving a committed life behind. A dog appears here and there: photographed in a soldier's arms, circling around the feet of Bogarde.      A LETTER TO TRUE Written and directed by: Bruce Weber. Featuring: Palomino, Big Skye, Rain, True, Polar Bear, Guy, Cloud, Sailor, Hope, Whizzy, Jake, and Tyson. Narrated by: Julie Christie, Marianne Faithfull, Bruce Weber. The look and feel is dreamy. June Christy, Blossom Dearie, Billy Strayhorn and others provide the soundtrack. Glorious underwater sequences of Goldens frolicking at the beach in Montauk are colorized and slightly slowed. Add to this an unshakeable loop of the sounds of visual documents of war; the tone is a weighted love. A story of one dog's death stands out as a parable of letting grief drop away into simply being present. The dog lies on its dead companion for 45 minutes without moving, then joins the others in the water. One of many points touching on the silent empathy of animals. Even though his dogs get acupuncture, even though we have the breed vs. mutt rift between us, I feel the same profound alteration as Weber. Life is better with beasts, and time makes simple sense.

This glorious photo here shows three of Bruce's guys: Palamino, Sky, and Polar Gear. You can see some wonderful Golden photos of Bruce's furkids in the book, Celebrity Dogs, photograpahy by Kamil Salah, foreword provided by Bruce. And, check out this funny anecdote from Peter Carlson's February 7, 2007 Washington Post article, "For Liz Taylor's 75th Birthday, Celeb-zine Puts Frosting on the Cake."

Bruce worked with Moncler owner, Remo Ruffini and had custom designed Moncler coats made for his Golden Retrievers. They look pretty interesting, but can you imagine how much such designer coats will cost?

Betty wrote [Nov 2001] about how her Golden boy Kitta helped her recover from hip surgery. Here is what she had to say:

"As well as we think we know the pets we live with, they still manage to surprise us now and then. It's especially nice when the surprise turns out to be a pleasant one.     My three animal friends are my family in every sense of the word, and we are in total communication at all times. Self-appointed queen of the group is Panda, a black and white Shih Tzu, 11 years old, who came from the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Los Angeles. She had been picked up in a cruelty case and impounded until the case came to trial. Panda has earned the right to be as spoiled as she is. Bob Cat is a beautiful Himalayan with huge blue eyes who found me seven years ago and, like the man who came to dinner, never left. He has no idea that he is of the feline persuasion and follows me everywhere with dog-like devotion. Unfortunately, his idea of "Sit-Stay" is on my chest.     Then there is my golden boy, Kitta, a 6-year-old Golden Retriever. He was puppy-raised in Alaska (kitta means "forward" in the Inuit language) but didn't make it into the formal Guide Dogs for the Blind program because his hips didn't quite measure up to the requirements for those hard-working dogs. Privately, I like to think it was because we were meant to be together.     Kitta is fine, but a few months ago, I was the one who needed hip replacement surgery. As someone who for 30 years has worked with the Morris Animal Foundation (an animal health organization that funds studies into specific health problems of all animals), I have seen enough canine X-rays to recognize the problem area. When my doctor showed me my pictures, my reaction was, 'I've got hip dysplasia — can I go to my veterinarian?"     While hip replacement is something we would all just as soon skip, they really have it down to a routine procedure these days. However, even under optimum conditions, there is a five-day hospital stay involved and a few weeks of slightly limited activity once you get home. My bedroom was off-limits as I couldn't go up stairs, so I arranged to set up headquarters in the playroom — separate from the house and with no steps to manage.     The day I came home from the hospital, I was walking but with the aid of a walker. I went directly out to the playroom, got safely ensconced, then had my furry friends brought out one at a time for their greeting. First Panda, then Bob, and finally Kitta — on a leash so he couldn't get too carried away in his enthusiasm.     I took the big golden head in my hands and, nose-to-nose, proceeded to explain the situation in detail: "Sorry, Kitta dear, but Mom's going to be real dumb company for a while . . . ." He sat motionless as he listened, just swaying slightly because of his intensely wagging tail. I unhooked the leash, and he sank down but within reach of my hand.     From that moment on, Kitta was on duty. When I would get up to move around, he was at my side but didn't move any faster than I could go with the walker. His idea, not mine. Later, when I graduated to a cane, his pace adjusted but only up to what I could manage, and his back was within arm's reach at all times.     The hospital sends a tool home with you called a "grabber" — a long stick with a handle that lets you pick up whatever you drop without bending over. Handy tool, that is. But I didn't need it. All I had to say to my golden friend was "Fetch it up," and whatever it was would be handed to me. One day, I got myself into a place in the rose garden where even with my cane I couldn't get back to smooth ground. I reached for Kitta's help, grabbed hold of some loose skin at his shoulders, and he literally pulled me back where I belonged.     Most animals are creatures of habit and don't appreciate change in their routine. Surprisingly, Panda — and even Bob — adapted to the altered daily pattern without complaint, bless them, but Kitta's reaction was something else. Remember, this was a dog that had never been trained to be a caretaker. He had only gone through puppy socialization, which simply meant being taken to various public places and learning to mind his manners. Where did this instinctive nursing behavior come from? I didn't ask questions; I just deeply appreciated it.     Continuing to improve, I was soon driving, we all moved back upstairs, and before long, everything was back to normal. Another surprise was yet to come: The day I put the cane away for good — the very day — my nurturing helpmate changed back into my regular fun-loving playmate, and my Kitta was his old self again, begging for a tennis ball game without a care in the world.     If possible, however, we are both just a little closer than before."

In February 2010 Betty has a new Golden guy named Pontiac (he's been with her a couple of years). "He's a career-change dog," says White of her pet who was trained as a guide dog but couldn't actually work in the field.

"I lost my last fellow when he was 10 years old, and Guide Dogs for the Blind heard about it.

They called and said they had another golden, so I went up to their facilities to meet him — and now he's mine!"
   

OPRAH WINFREY

At Oprah's house, dinner does not begin until her Goldens show her their table manners!

"We're not allowed to come running into the room until we sit and we ask for it," Oprah says.

When it is time for their dinner, which is typically rice, carrots and beef, all three must follow a sit command. Then they are told to "wait," so remaining seated.

"Sitting down is like saying, 'Please, may I eat?'" Oprah says. Finally, all three Golden kids find their own bowls (we guess they read their names on the 3 respective bowls lol) and eat away. Oprah has the problem with her furkids that many of us do as well, that of their jumping up on folks when they come to visit. Click here to watch a video of Oprah learning the steps to changing this behavior.

“We grew up together,” says the actress who first fell in love with Dylan at the Austin Animal Shelter when she emerged from an adorable litter of puppies and rested her nuzzle on Renee’s foot. “I looked down at her and of course she was the most gorgeous creature of all time,” she says.