Last time, I wrote about my decision to say “I do” to our black and tan short-haired dachshund puppy Evelyn. I mentioned how “loving this puppy is part of my meager contribution to loving the world,” and I want to explain what that looks like.

Not only does raising Evelyn bring more joy and love to our home (with equal amounts of frustration and extra work), but she also brings joy, however briefly, to those in my neighborhood with whom I interact on walks, desperately trying to leash train my headstrong puppy.

Neighbor kids playing tag outside in their yards stop and line up along the curb when they see us coming. “Can we pet your dog?” they ask.

“Sure,” I tell them, and then Evelyn does her licking thing where faces and hands end up wet and everyone is smiling. We talk about how to handle a puppy and why letting her bite your favorite stuffed animal might not be a good idea since she doesn’t understand how to let go very well. Even ten-year-old Luna, our chihuahua, seems to be warming up to the idea of being petted by children.

As I leave, they holler at me, “Hey, can you walk by here every day at this time? We’re at school during the day, but we’ll be outside at this time.”

I tell them I’ll keep that in mind, and then once I’m about a block away, another one yells, “Can you invite us over to your house so we can play with your dog?” And I yell back that I’ll make it easier by walking past their house from time to time.

It’s not just kids who want to pet her. Older folks out on their porches, enjoying the coolness of the evening, invite me up on their porch. People who are headed to watch their kids play soccer at a nearby field say, “Can I stroke her? Her coat looks so smooth.” Puppies, or maybe it’s just my Evelyn, seem to bring out the hope, joy, and love that spark connection with others. Saying “I do” to more love and more joy, regardless of the cost, reaches further than I imagined.