Mum said no when I was six and kept saying it. At university I was too busy “studying”. Then I got married and my wife said no.

Last weekend she said yes.

I asked if she was sure. Then I asked again, and a third time, and then I asked her to put it on WhatsApp. She did. I did not dare ask a fourth time, in case she changed her mind.

I have been waiting twenty five years for someone to ask,
“Which one should we adopt?”

I always said “golden retriever.” I never thought beyond that.

Then I realised I had never looked at any of the others. I could name about twenty of them.

I typed every name into Google and wrote down what it tried to finish. 17,859 of them.

Everyone starts with the same questions. Do they shed. Do they bark. Are they aggressive.

Hardly anyone asks whether they will love it. Out of those 17,859, one hundred and forty five are about love.

More people ask if a dog will bite them than ask if it is clever.

Then something changes. You stop asking what the dog is like. You start asking why.

813 of the questions start with that word. Why do they lean on you. Why do they stare at me. Why do they sleep so much. Why do they look sad.

I do not get to ask those yet. I am still on where to adopt one.

I know far more than I did a week ago.

I am no closer.

Golden retrievers shed. Chihuahuas are loud. Border collies need a job or they pick one themselves. Great Danes drool. A bulldog gets about ten years. A poodle gets fourteen.

There are 260 of them on the page.

I thought choosing a dog would make me want one less. It had the opposite effect.