This will be my husband Frank’s and my 50th Valentine’s together. In honor of the day, we had planned to exchange the Valentine’s Day cards I save each year — why spend money buying new ones? — and settle in to watch a romantic comedy. That was before we got a new puppy.

We named our female mini goldendoodle Sunnie, and her arrival has been like a new character written into a rom-com — one who brings chaos, action, comedy, and a soundtrack of playful growls and squeaky toys. The little furball — we joke she could double as a dust mop — races through the house, flings toys skyward, and chases her tail with the dizzy enthusiasm of a Julia Roberts character caught in a playful courtship story. She darts here, then there, as if she can’t wait to explore everything at once.

Counters and tables are now cluttered with leashes, training treats, and paper towels. I’m sleep-deprived from midnight potty runs. My coat pockets overflow with treats and poop bags. And I’m ecstatically happy in that messy, sleep-deprived, joyful way new love brings.

Sunnie spent her first few days in the Dells, joyfully bounding through snow nearly as deep as her eleven pounds. Five days after her arrival, however, we packed the car and headed 1,200 miles to Gulf Shores, Alabama. Traveling with an energetic puppy who wasn’t yet fully potty trained and had only a vague understanding of the phrase “come” added an unpredictable twist to our journey. Our carefully timed driving schedule was replaced with spontaneous rest stops, impromptu training sessions, and laughter when Sunnie pounced on a rest-stop pinecone, shredding it with triumphant enthusiasm and tossing pieces into the air. Who knew a pinecone could be so entertaining?

Once we arrived at the Gulf, we took Sunnie for her first walk on the beach. She paused at the edge of the sand, tilting her head as if deciding whether this strange, soft ground could be trusted. Within minutes, she was digging enthusiastically, burying her nose into freshly carved holes before sprinting off to start another.

Frank and I find ourselves walking closer together, sharing chuckles over Sunnie’s discoveries. Having a puppy is like rediscovering the world through a lens that highlights life’s small wonders. Look at that shell. Did you hear that squawking bird? Let’s go watch the crashing waves. Sunnie notices everything — and now, so do we.

This Valentine’s Day, we won’t be watching a rom-com. We’ll be living one — complete with belly rubs, puppy kisses, and a golden-haired dust mop named Sunnie.

If we do switch the TV from Cesar Millan dog training to a Valentine’s movie, chances are good we’ll fall asleep halfway through. Our calendar is suddenly filled with puppy training classes, vet appointments, and trips to the dog park. We’re already imagining future adventures — whether Sunnie will enjoy riding in a kayak, chasing sticks into the ocean, or trotting alongside us during bike rides.

Adding Sunnie to our lives has brought a blend of fun, exhaustion, and happy chaos. More importantly, she reminds us that after fifty years together, our story still has room for new chapters, unexpected laughter, and fresh adventures.

And that, it turns out, might be the best love story of all.