Bennett & Riley vs. the World

Goofball. That is the first word that comes to mind when I think of my 24/7 companion, my four-legged best friend, my fluffy ray of sunshine: Bennett.

Bennett is a golden doodle which means he his part Golden Retriever and Poodle. By looking at him I would not have believed it if I had not met his parents--a friend of the family's dogs who had a litter of eight puppies: the runt being my best bud, Bennett!

Pure sunshine in color, in appearance he is a mini–Golden Retriever. Having absolutely no curl in him, except for some crimping behind his ears if we let it grow out, making him match any teenage girl's hair from their 90's "punk phase".

My family was lucky getting to meet Bennett when he was three weeks old and taking him home at eight weeks old. He has grown up with me through my teens and is now getting me through my twenties.

Born on St. Patrick's Day, my family has decided that his full name is Bennett O' Shenanigans; which has suited him thus far in his eight years of life! For example, when he was still a puppy he climbed up over my shoulders in the car because he wanted to look out the window and cuddle at the same time making him perched like a snake around my neck.

Another time, to catch a family of ducks, my dog who hates water, launched himself into a lake only to realize he made it about four feet from shore. With the ducks sitting safely on the other side of the lake, my silly Bennet, peaking at 35 pounds and always bringing big dog energy now had to swim back to the grass to now endure a bath.

The one memory that always makes me smile is the time he had twenty-two-year-old me calling out for my mom to come check for "monsters".

Now I know I'm not the only one who relies on my four-legged friend to warn me when there is danger around so when Bennett barks or snaps to attention it usually means there is a threat nearby.

I was in bed one night "doom-scrolling" (defined by Wikipedia as the act of spending an excessive amount of screen time devoted to the absorption of negative news) when Bennett went from his serene slumber to high alert. He held an intense stare at my bedroom door which was half opened. The only light coming from my dim lamp next to my bed, the area outside my bedroom being absorbed in complete darkness.

Bennett held his stare at my door for what felt like eternity. I asked him what was there. To no surprise he said nothing at all. However, when I usually ask him things, he at least acknowledges my presence with a tail wag or gives a huff of annoyance that me, a mere human, is trying to speak dog. But this time he did not even flinch, he held his attention at my door.

Starting to get freaked out, I sat up and took a position of defense, or as much as I could without leaving my bed.

After asking Bennett again what he thought was out there, and again with not so much as a huff in response, I started to panic. It was in that moment I realized my parents' room was not even ten feet from mine and I did what any twenty-two-year-old would do in this situation, I yelled out,

"MOMMMMMMM!!!!"

My mom came in my room, saw me in the corner of my bed with Bennett sitting at attention on the end of the bed and asked if we were okay. I told her that Bennett had sensed danger and we needed her to check the hallways and turn on some lights.

To which she smirked and asked if I was high.

Which was a valid question. However, that month, I happened to be sober!

I then proceeded to give Bennett the kind of glare that you give your best friend after they said just a little bit too much information about the "small gathering" you had over the weekend when your parents were away and said, "no parties".

And because I have a great mom, she simply checked the hallway and rooms directly outside my room for any "monsters". Finding nothing, she reported back and returned to bed.

Realizing Bennett was just a goofball with anxiety, just like me, I was able to sleep safe and sound, with Bennett finally curling himself into my plethora of pillows.

Luckily, he hasn’t done anything like that since, though I never hold his anxiety against him. If we were keeping count of every time, we got anxious over nothing, I'm sure I would have him beat!

I always like to joke that Bennett inherited my attachment style because he is an introvert and still needs lots of love. He is anxious when meeting new people, barking when someone unfamiliar is at the door, sniffing them out at his own time then going up to nuzzle them for pets when it suits his schedule.

Now when I see him go on high alert for something that he perceives as a threat but is just unfamiliar, such as a neighbor going to get their mail, a car driving by our house or a loud noise, I like to tell him (which helps me tell myself):

The feeling is valid, but the threat is not. You are safe here.

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