My New Puppy Beau Takes Care of the Problem

My medicine is getting me down I feel depressed Why don’t you take two? Someone suggests As if that ever works Someone does not know; he does not even go to a doctor. A golden retriever puppy, I say. It is all I have ever wanted. I just turned 72 years young and I retired. Do you know how much they cost? Someone asks. He says “You can buy twenty regular puppies for the same amount.” I cannot be dissuaded. I travel two hours to pick up my golden retriever, Beau. My grandson Jack goes with me. The puppy is bigger than I thought. He does not allow us to pick him up. My grandson is seventeen, he gets him. They cuddle and sleep the two hours back. I drive, all happy, singing seventies songs. Loving Helen Reddy’s “I am woman” and Cher’s “Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves.” When we get home there are two problems. Someone has kept them both inside. Buddy our one hundred and sixteen pound puppy. And Sophie, our old lady cocker spaniel who is 91 and mean. How to introduce them to Beau, my new baby? I get all kinds of emails and suggestions. No one who makes these has ever had 19 dogs simultaneously. I have. I let the big boy and the mean girl come out and sniff the puppy. (The puppy is safely in a cage) for this event. Big boy Buddy wants Beau OUT Beau wants out too. Sophie the 13-year-old mean girl gives puppy a warning growl. A low menacing bark originating from the bowels of hell comes out of Beau. I am shocked. He did not make a sound the two hours in the car! I decide to let him out. He gives chase and the other two run like I have not seen them run in years. I think it’s going to be okay, I tell Someone. That was six days ago. They are all sleeping together now, butt to butt. My granddaughter texted me this today “Do not let them touch for three days.” “Too late,” I texted her back.