Golden Retriever or Baby?

If you've been around me enough, you've heard me mention the similarities between Sam and a Golden Retriever. I continue to see why I think Sam might have been a canine in his former life:

Balls - Sam can't get enough of them. Basket, base, tennis, it doesn't matter. He spots one and he can't focus on anything else. He even retrieves!

Garbage - Just like our canine friends, Sam thinks it's hilarious to open up the cupboard with the garbage and spread the contents all over the floor. Luckily he doesn't try to ingest anything, he merely empties the bin on the kitchen floor and then goes to look for his ball.

Shoes - Sam has a slight fetish for shoes. He immediately heads to my closet and one-by-one pulls every shoe out of my shoe rack. Now, he doesn't chew them (yet) but this activity can keep him entertained for at least 20 minutes (an eternity in my world!).

Outside - Sam has a deep desire to be outside as much as possible, he even stands by the front door and knocks on it, as if to signal me to let him out. The minute he is released into the open, he runs wildly, inspecting flower pots, chasing cats and gawking at the local gang of squirrels.

Poo - This just happened last night and has officially secured Sam's canine designation. After his bath each night, we give him a little time to run around in the buff, allowing his bum to be diaper-free thus reducing his chance of diaper rash. Last night, he did his usual routine, running around the upstairs, inspecting his toys and ended up in my closet dismantling my shoe rack. After about 1 minute, I thought it was about time to check on him and bam! I realized that he had poo'd in my closet and on the rug! Of course it didn't bother him any and he was happily stepping in it, tracking it ALL over our bedroom. I shrieked in horror and quickly whisked him away for his second scrub-down of the evening.

I rest my case.