The day my family brought a dog home, we were dreadfully unprepared to bring a dog home.

Neither of my parents had ever owned a dog, and I consequently grew up in a house of cats. I was always so mesmerized by the fantasy of owning a dog; I always loved animals, and dogs seemed such a delicacy. Their portrayals in mass media painted a picture of unyielding loyalty, dedicated friendship, and endless fun. I was in the fourth grade and absolutely smitten with the idea of carrying a puppy into the house, which was a fantasy I knew my parents also indulged in from time to time. The dogs in these daydreams were almost always golden retrievers.

We flirted with the idea of contacting breeders, and perhaps googled a few names once or twice, but never quite felt ready to take the leap. There was always some sort of conflict which would brand our timing as “unideal” and we pushed the possibility away each time it flittered by.

Then one day we went to the mall and walked out with a dog. Yes, he was a pet store buy, and it was so far from what we would have planned or expected. I would absolutely recommend anyone interested in buying a dog to do their research and find a thorough, trustworthy breeder, where the dogs’ pasts are proven to be healthy and ethical, or to save a shelter animal in need of a home. These are infinitely more responsible methods. We knew the various risks and controversies of doing what we did, and I don’t know what to say other than we absolutely melted at the sight of his creamy chocolate eyes. My mom and I were passing the mall’s notorious pet store and reasoned that we would peek our noses through the door, just to get a glimpse of the little bodies squirming around in excitement, and stopped short of breath at a yellow bundle behind caged doors. He was a floppy little golden staring at us behind laughably large paws and goofy whiskers, and we were already his before we put down the deposit.

He was small and lanky, but carried the obvious promise of future size and strength. His coat was light yellow dusted with flecks of warm cinnamon, like a snickerdoodle cookie. He sat there and softly held our gazes, the magnetic attraction palpable beyond the bars, and we asked an employee if we could let the golden puppy out to play. Moments later he was bouncing back and forth between our arms, floating between the waves of our laughter, his signature retriever “smile” making it look as though he was laughing too. The “snickerdoodle dog,” as I quickly began to call him, was beyond eager and excited to play, but eventually became tired. It was then that he crawled into my mom’s lap and gently rested his soft head directly over her heart. After a frantic phone call placed to my dad, we walked out of the store with Snickerdoodle in tow.

He unquestionably completes our family. Snickerdoodle changed our lives in ways that we can’t entirely comprehend, but the little golden puppy shifted something inside all of us. He is a ray of absolute sunshine in our house, even when he is growling at neighbors, stealing socks, or guiltily eating the cats’ food. We weren’t particularly prepared to go out on a limb and buy a dog, but we were

entirely unprepared to leave the store without him; the moment was never “right” until it suddenly had to be. I’m not entirely sure what the moral of this story is, because I definitely don’t think that everyone needs to go out and buy a dog or embrace every wild impulse that comes to mind. However, I think that some risks are worth taking. In this case, we were a family irreversibly changed and improved with the sudden decision to bring Snickerdoodle home, and he has brought us incalculable joy. His enthusiastic howls are my favorite sound to come home to, and his sweet face bounding up to me first thing every morning makes sun break a wonderful time of day. Despite our fears and inexperience, we brought this dog home because of a connection, and this is a connection I will always savor. It was an impulsive decision, but it was one of the best we had ever made.