The Mighty and the, er, Not-so-Mighty

I am Jackson. I will have you all know that I come from a long line of pedigree Labrador Retrievers. 

My forefathers have retrieved grouse for Royalty.

My father is a proud, well-known-in-breeding-circles (so we all know the kind of life he lives. Ahem) Golden Labrador.

Click here to see a photo of the proud Labrador who is my father.

I, on the other hand...

 have to live for retrieving ducks.

I was not born to this.

I was born for greater things.

Greater, I tell you.

"Quack! Would someone get me out of this dumb mutt's mouth, please."

"Quack... NOW!"

Do I hear someone calling me?  If so, you will address me in a matter to which my father's people were accustomed.

You will remember who I am.

Wont you?

Or is this to be my lot forever?

Oh, how the mighty are fallen.

But do I care?

Do any of my siblings have my life?

Do any of them have this view? Or a whole garden full of cuddly toys? And a bed full of them?

Who's the lucky one, then?