Eight years ago, my wife and I decided we should get a dog.

She wanted a Labrador retriever, while I wanted a golden retriever. After much thought, we finally reached a compromise, buying one of each.

The golden will always be my dog, as I am reminded by my wife every time he gets in trouble.

We should have known what we were getting into with Sage, our golden retriever, when he was a puppy. When we got a quote to fence our backyard, the man said,  “They won’t be able to jump this fence. Labs and goldens can’t jump that high.”

While he was telling us this, puppy Sage had jumped on the top of the 4-foot-tall dog house. I wanted to believe the fence company, but my gut told me that Sage was born to fly.

After the fence was installed, it was only a matter of time before Sage started showing up on our neighborhood Facebook page as a red blur running through the area with the caption, “Is someone missing a dog?” Every time I received a notification, I just assumed Sage jumped the fence.

Taking the dogs to a kennel for boarding is always interesting. Just like in school, teachers of big classes only remember the names of the exceptional students — or the troublemakers.

So, when we pick up Sage from the kennel, we are usually met with staff who knows our troublemaker’s name. I always check if employees are out of breath from chasing him into the next county or if the dartboard in the break room has his picture on it.

After we admit that Sage is our dog, we wait patiently for the inevitable follow up questions.

“Did you know Sage can jump a 6-foot fence?”

“Did you know Sage is really fast?”

“Did you know Sage can open gates and doors?”

These are just a few that we have heard over the years. And we answer all of them, “Yes…sorry we didn’t tell you about that.”

With more gray invading his coat, Sage has decided to work smarter, not harder.

To solve the fence jumping issue, we installed an underground fence. Most dogs realize they will get shocked if they are too close and, for the rest of their lives, they will not cross the invisible barrier.

Sage, on the other hand, has processed that his collar is battery powered and checks it every day.

After our morning walk, I put his collar on and let him out the back door. He walks to the perimeter of the yard until he hears a beep. He then goes back to our porch for a day of napping.

If the beep doesn’t sound, though, he leaps the fence without hesitation, and a look of sheer joy engulfs his face as he runs full speed down our neighborhood path.

I have only myself to blame. I wanted a smart, athletic dog, and that is what I ended up with.

This mischievous nature is annoying at times, but, as a working, hunting dog, it comes in handy. I could get mad at him for all his wrongs, but I choose to enjoy these antics and be glad that the kennel workers know his name.