I became a dog owner for the first time in my life about two months ago.

He’s a little guy, about 30 pounds, a beagle mix. He’s about 7 years old and very well trained, with a sweet personality and an adorable doggie smile. And he loves to be near me.

I didn’t grow up with any pets delegated to my care, and went through early adulthood free from curiosity about animals. Since I was never successful keeping a houseplant alive, I was certain that I would only bring doom to an animal.

This dog initiated the courtship, and we fell in love quickly. Fortunately I have a lot of friends with dogs, so they taught me what I needed to know.

I’m lucky to have a low maintenance dog–the most destructive thing he has done is chew up a pencil. I had feared, all these years, that the responsibility of a dog would be a heavy one, even with a good dog. He needs walking, feeding, and attention, which curb my style from staying away from the house from morning until night. There are the expenses of fencing in the yard, vet bills, and those chewy rawhide treats. Even as well behaved as he is, I thought that owning a dog would be a challenge to my lifestyle.

What he’s done, though, is to give me a greater appreciation for my home. I enjoy being there a lot more than I used to–because there’s somebody there who wants me around.

And he is awfully cute. He makes me smile every time I see him. I have to go over and pet him and talk baby talk to him just because. He’s my buddy.

I suppose it would be healthy to live with a human companion, but now I understand why people are so attached to their pets. My dog makes it easy to be home.