The first time I saw Biscuit was the evening of Wednesday, November 29th, 2017. We took him home ten days later on Saturday, December 9th.

I’ve been home with him during this quarantine; I just felt him nuzzle my leg while I’m working at my kitchen counter and thought it’s time to document his adoption story.

In 2017, I was living in Philadelphia, on the corner of South and 21st streets. Catty-corner from my apartment, and visible out my bedroom window, was Doggy Style Pets, a pet supply store that partners with rescue agencies to find homes for dogs and cats. There are a few locations around this city; this particular storefront is a door flanked by two large windows. The windows look into two little rooms in which the store displays dogs that are up for adoption and feature a little poster of information about that pup.

Needless to say, I fell in love with Biscuit upon first sight. I came home every day from work and sat with him in his window until the store closed at 9 pm. Most nights I was crying, trying to hide my tears from the store employees (although I’m sure I was unsuccessful and I’m sure they understood). It was truly a visceral reaction; I could not fathom how, but I knew that we’d be together.

The store employees loved Biscuit, and it was mutual. When I was able to pull myself together, I inquired about B’s status. They said they had many people interested in Biscuit; three families communicated their intent to apply for his adoption. Okay, so he was definitely on his way to a good home, right?

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As a backup plan, I petitioned my parents. I begged them to take him, permanently or until I moved somewhere that would allow pets. They were split; my mom was willing to help however she could, but my dad had legitimate concerns and reservations. My lease wasn’t up for another nine months, I worked 45 minutes from my apartment and their house, and I traveled frequently. Plus, there were three people ahead of me in line for Biscuit!

There was another person I discussed this with, or I should say, I cried on the phone to: my then-boyfriend and, unknowingly to us, Biscuit’s future dad. I never directly asked Biscuit’s future dad to adopt him, but I think he could hear my commitment and desperation to find Biscuit a home, whomever it was with.

One night on the phone, he told me he was considering adopted Biscuit. He consulted his family, who cautiously supported him and implored him to only adopt B for the right reasons. Biscuit’s dad is a very logical, responsible decision-maker, so we made plans for Biscuit and his future dad to meet that Saturday, December 9th, to be sure it was a good fit.

Again, there were three people ahead of us in line to adopt B. One family had arrangements to introduce Biscuit to their current dog. One woman was dropping by late that week to submit her application. The third couple planned to do the same.

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One night that week, I visited with B and left him an hour early to attend my favorite yoga class at City Fitness next door. I knew I needed the time to take care of my head and my heart, which were fully invested in Biscuit and his well-being. Throughout the yoga class, I prayed to God that Biscuit would end up in the home that was right for him. Was it with a family who had energetic kids and a yard where they could endlessly play? Was it with a woman who worked from home and could keep him company all day? Was it with me and his dad who, although we were long-distance and had busy schedules, would fall in love with him and rearrange our lives to have him in it? I just wanted what was best for the little white angel with the spot on his eye.

I kept in contact with the ladies working at Doggie Style. They updated me that the one woman’s current dog didn’t get along with Biscuit, so she was out, and because she couldn’t take him, she donated to cover part of his adoption fee. Oddly enough, the other two applications for his adoption hadn’t arrived yet. I knew what was best for B would be.

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Biscuit’s dad arrived in Philadelphia late Friday evening, and we went to meet B as soon as the store opened Saturday morning. Needless to say, they were two peas in a pod. Both are easy-going, introverted gentlemen who prefer quiet walks in the park, relaxing days at home, and good snacks.

That morning, it was confirmed; we were first in line to adopt Biscuit. Miraculously, although they expected multiple applications, the store never received any, except for ours.

Biscuit’s dad and I left him momentarily to pick up lunch at Wawa and make the final decision. There was no debating; Biscuit was ours. We scarfed down our sandwiches and went back to the store to get Bisc and any supplies for his new home.

The ladies at Doggy Style approved our application and were ecstatic. Three of them had considered adopting him for themselves but just couldn’t make it work. They were so happy to see him end up with the right people. We bought him a bed, some toys, food and treats, and a beautiful hunter green leash and harness. We were ready to bring him home.

Understandably, while Biscuit was comfortable with us in his window, he was not thrilled to leave it and the store. Where was he going? He’s a timid little man, so I’m sure this was terrifying. It breaks my heart to think of it still.

We pretty much had to drag him out of his window, out of the store, and across the street to my apartment. It must be like taking your kid to get a shot; you know it’s right, but you don’t really want to have to do it.

Miraculously again, he stepped into my apartment and turned into a new dog. He was smiling and bouncing off the couch and chairs. He played with his new toys and snuggled us on the couch. He was the best listener and had no accidents. He even calmly let us bathe him. That was the first and only night he slept in his crate, instead of snuggled up next to us on the bed.

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The next day, we drove down to Baltimore as a family to introduce B to his permanent home. He was a little nervous in the car but smiled the entire two hours anyway. He made himself at home in his dad’s house, except for the stairs. The little man was afraid of the stairs; it was kind of funny to see.

He adjusted to life with his dad with ease. Biscuit’s dad came home during lunch every day to walk him. They played in the basement, snuggled in bed, and went on a ton of walks around Baltimore. It would only be a short six months until I joined them in Charm City.

Every time I set eyes on Bisc I’m reminded that he is a gift from God. We weren’t looking for a dog, but he found us nonetheless. I think I can speak for both of us when I say he makes our lives better everyday. He brings such joy, and we take so much pride in caring for our little man. He is perfect in every way.