How We Accidentally Became Dog People

So remember how I said we were going to look at small, hypoallergenic dogs? Remember how I specifically said SMALL? Well, meet Biscuit Hartwell, our eight-week-old golden retriever who is currently the size of a loaf of bread and will eventually be larger than Theo.

How We Accidentally Became Dog People

Here’s how it happened: We walked into the Wake County SPCA with a very reasonable list of requirements. Small breed. Doesn’t shed. Good with kids. We were looking at a terrier mix when Theo spotted the golden retriever puppies and immediately started crying. Not tantrum crying - the kind of pure joy crying that makes your heart explode. This particular puppy waddled over, sat on Theo’s shoe, and looked up at him like he’d been waiting his whole eight weeks of life for this exact moment.

“He’s the color of Bojangles biscuits,” Theo whispered, and that was it. Game over. We filled out the paperwork while I muttered things like “this is not what we planned” and “do you know how much this dog is going to shed?” But look at this face. LOOK AT IT.

Meet Biscuit Hartwell, destroyer of good intentions and stealer of hearts.

Marcus keeps saying “we got a dog” like it was a mutual decision. Let the record show that Marcus, Sophie, and Theo got a dog. I got outvoted by a four-year-old, a nine-year-old, and a man who still thinks his homebrewing equipment in the garage is going to get used someday. But watching Biscuit fall asleep on Theo’s lap while Sophie gently pets his ears? Yeah, okay. We’re dog people now. God help us all.