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Dogs need a job. Especially dogs that were bred for a working or sporting purpose. I always joke that I am not smart enough to own a Border Collie. Anytime I have had any interaction with that breed, the dog finds a way to train me. 

That’s why I spend my days with the more simple-minded retrievers. Some may take offense to saying they are simple-minded, but with all the labs I have owned, their favorite day revolves around this simple mantra: You throw it, and I bring it back.

Hank, my elderly yellow Labrador, served dutifully in his job as the family’s retriever for the past fourteen years. Ducks, geese, doves, pacifiers, socks, and an unfortunate diaper were all objects he retrieved as his job. 

Pacifiers were a favorite. Our kids learned early that if they threw it, Hank would take off running. Hank’s excitement, paired with the noise of slipping paws on the hardwood floor, made them belly laugh as toddlers. Hank executed his job as a retriever and entertainer masterfully.

Hank was also a connoisseur of socks. He only retrieved Merino wool socks. Cotton and polyester socks got a pass because, for some reason, Hank believed that only the most expensive socks were worth retrieving. 

The diaper was an unfortunate incident in a national forest. Hank thought his job was to clean up other people’s litter. Instead, his retrieve made us explore dog mouthwash options.

Hank’s favorite job was retrieving feathered creatures in the water. Every time he went to retrieve a duck, his powerful frame sent a tidal wave through the swamp. Being powered by his big paws and otter-like tail, he made my life a lot easier in a duck swamp.

Unfortunately, with age came retirement to Hank’s retrieving days this year. A combination of arthritis, vertigo, and a decrease in vision made it unsafe to venture the swamps. But every dog needs a job. Instead of filing for unemployment, Hank applied for the job of  “CEO of Naps” at my office. While the pay is abysmal, the perks seem to be worth it.

Most mornings, Hank follows me around while I get ready to leave. Instead of jumping in the truck, he stands by the door for me to load him in the backseat. On top of transportation, Hank receives adoration from most employees who walk by his office in the basement. His office, a dog bed by the break room, was strategically placed next to the highest concentration of snacks.

The term “Encore Career” has become more prevalent as our population ages. This type of career is one characterized by giving the individual a sense of purpose after retiring from their main career. Hank has found his encore career. While he may not be able to retrieve anymore, his big yellow head gives folks peace when they scratch it, and his floppy ears are always willing to listen.