01/22/2026
I should start by saying—I’m a 34-year-old man who had never owned so much as a goldfish.
My ex left me.
My apartment became painfully quiet.
My therapist said,
“You should take care of something living.”
I thought she meant a houseplant.
Instead, my coworker forwarded me a rescue post:
Two 10-week-old German Shepherd sisters—Bean and Biscuit—needed an emergency foster.
There was a health risk at the shelter, and the healthy puppies needed to get out fast.
“Just two weeks,” she said.
“You literally just have to keep them alive.”
I picked them up thinking:
I’ll keep them in the bathroom.
I’ll feed them twice a day.
I will not get attached.
Day one:
Biscuit escaped the bathroom, found my bedroom, and fell asleep with her face shoved inside my sneaker.
Long legs, oversized ears—still convinced she’s tiny. 🥲
Day three:
Bean figured out how to push doors open.
That’s when I learned how smart German Shepherds really are.
I woke up to both of them on my chest,
their warm, wiggly little bodies making it hard to breathe.
Day five:
I bought them a $70 orthopedic dog bed.
They completely ignored it
and decided the safest place in the world was my chest. 🐶🖤
Here’s what nobody tells you about **German Shepherd** puppies—they’re incredibly social and people-loving.
Confident, intelligent dogs…
but with their person, they settle right in.
If I stop petting Bean for even one second,
she presses her whole body closer and makes a quiet little sound.
Biscuit brings me “collected treasures”—
socks, the remote, once my wallet—
and places them at my feet like she’s saying,
“I found this. It’s my human’s.”
At the two-week mark, the rescue coordinator called.
“Great news! We found an adopter for Biscuit.
Bean might take longer—she’s a bit quieter.”
I looked at Bean,
asleep with her paw wrapped around her sister.
I looked at Biscuit,
breathing in sync with my chest.
“No,” I said. I didn’t hesitate.
“No… to the adoption?”
“They’re not getting separated. I’ll take them both.”
There was a long pause.
“Sir, are you sure? You said you’d never owned a pet before.”
I looked around my apartment.
Paw prints on the couch.
Two **German Shepherd** puppies asleep on my chest.
And a $70 dog bed no one uses.
“I’m sure,” I said.
“Send me the paperwork.”
My therapist later asked how the “houseplant” was doing.
I sent her a photo of two **German Shepherds** asleep on my chest.
She replied:
“…that’s not a plant.”
No.
It’s not.
It’s better. 🖤🐾
📍 Foster Fail Anniversary: 4 months
Bean still won’t sleep without me.
