I feel the need to begin by telling you that there is currently a puppy sitting in my lap, intently watching me type these very words. Cuddles, mama never knew you were such an avid reader of her blog! Someone’s getting an extra treat with their breakfast tomorrow morning.

I wish y’all could have known me before Snuggles y Cuddles because you would not believe how much I used to dislike animals. I didn’t pet them, hold them, touch them — nothing. I had no idea why anyone would want a pet and I already had a speech planned for when my future children asked me for a pet one day down the road. I was anti-pet, all the time.

And then, without warning, some of my Starlite college girls began begging me for a pet for the office.

I couldn’t appease them, so I called our landlord to “ask” if we could have a pet in the office, knowing he would say no and knowing that I could use his answer to stop the begging from the girls. To my surprise he seemed to think a pet was a great idea for the office and, once the girls heard this, it was over. They found me working in the office on Saturday morning and literally surrounded my desk.

I didn’t know how you went about getting a pet, but I figured a newspaper was a good place to start. I pulled up the classifieds from our local newspaper and the first ad I read happened to be from a guy trying to sell a couple of puppies from a recent litter. I called him up and arranged to meet him in a parking lot about an hour away. I didn’t mention that I was bringing eight college girls with me because I thought I should just save that as a nice little surprise.

We headed off in two cars and I will never forget pulling up to his car only to see him pull a laundry basket out of the backseat. Laying in that basket were the two cutest little things I had ever seen in my life and I knew right then that I wasn’t leaving the parking lot without both of them in my possession. One of my girls, who was designated as the negotiator, began talking prices with him. For some reason he didn’t want to sell me both dogs, even though I offered to pay full price for both of them. He kept turning my offer down, insisting that I could only take one puppy home with me.

I went across the street to pull some money out of my savings account and, as an act of faith, pulled out enough money for both puppies hoping he would change his mind when he saw cash in front of him. I still remember sitting in that car in front of the ATM, tears rolling down my cheeks because I just couldn’t leave one of them behind — I didn’t want two siblings separated.

Even cold hard cash didn’t faze him. It became obvious that I needed to choose one of the puppies and, after standing in front of the laundry basket for a long time, I picked the one who wasn’t the runt, mainly because I was afraid that the runt would die on me but also because the other puppy was cuter. As I watched him load that laundry basket back into his car, I felt sick to my stomach. I knew I was supposed to have both puppies.

For the next two weeks I took care of that first little puppy, Snuggles, all while thinking about that second little puppy. I called the man a few times, asking if I could please buy the other puppy but the answer was the same every single time: no. Katie, our former bride-to-be, was one of my roommates at the time and, though she hadn’t even seen the other puppy, she felt very strongly that I was supposed to have it. I was sitting in an all-day grad class one afternoon when she began instant messaging me, telling me to call the guy back one more time. On the next bathroom break, I reluctantly called him and, for whatever reason, he agreed to sell me the other puppy as long as I agreed to meet him in a parking lot within an hour.

I skipped the rest of class that day.

Anyone who has been around my puppies will tell you that the second one — the runt, Cuddles– is far more attached to me than the first one. Cuddles always wants to be near me. He’s the one who runs in circles when I come home from work at the end of the day. I keep thinking that one day I’m going to come home from work and Cuddles won’t run in a circle but we’re getting near two years of life together and it hasn’t happened yet.

Make fun of me if you want, but I can’t tell you what it does to me to know that there are two little things waiting for me to come home each night. They may be little and they may not be able to carry on a conversation with me, but they’re two of the most darling things in my life.

Well, except for when they chew up my ballet flats. There’s nothing darling about that.