Ollie came into the rescue with multiple leg issues, infectious joy, and a tongue-hanging-out smile we couldn’t resist. At just 7 months old, he walked like an old man, couldn’t stand or walk for very long, and was in constant pain. After meeting with a specialist, it was determined that this boy would have to undergo left shoulder and right elbow surgery. Having two other large goldens and stairs in our home, the two-month recovery needed to keep him tranquil was, in one word, insurmountable. We put up baby gates on the stairs, which he chewed through, and we were left to carry him up and down; he was the prince, and we were his peasant bearers. Twice, I caught him mid-air jumping from the couch. He despised the cone-of-shame, so we added long-sleeve t-shirts to his wardrobe, which he used to remind us of our lowly status of peasanthood by peeing on them every day. Our other two goldens held secret meetings to revolt against the new monarch, but instead, they joined forces to rule together and keep us in perpetual servitude.

Ollie (Oliver if he’s not listening) is doing great, and we took him on his first trip to the dog park this week. He ran his little heart out at full speed for the first time since his surgery with no issues or limp; this was a huge accomplishment after all we had been through.

The two queens, Luna and Penny, and Prince Ollie are living happily ever after in their 2800 sq ft dog castle in sunny Gilbert, AZ. They bark often, and I swear I can just make out, “Let them eat cake!”

The Royal Majesties’ most humble and obedient servant,

B. B.