You'd be surprised by how many strangers in the next barstool I’ve blown away with this doozie: "I hear ya, but I don’t see myself ever having kids."

During the 20-30 minute argument that inevitably follows, all I can think is: since when did procreation become small talk for unmarried twenty-somethings? Yet I’ve done it enough that my argument is airtight. 

The truth is, most people consider being a parent the same way I consider not being a parent –– no question. 

But I did start my family about a month ago. I adopted. He's three months old and about 25 pounds. Standing, he's no more than eight inches, but stretch across my bed, he's closer to three feet.

Now, the best part of my day is coming home from work to see his frenzied black body in the kennel perching that one white tube sock of a paw on the side of the cage. There is no love comparable to the excitement he emits when I say, "Grady-boy! Let's go potty!"

Grady hurries through his "business" just run into my arms and proceed to cover my entire face with kisses as if he were clearing a plate once smothered with prime rib and au jus.

That's love.

I get so overwhelmed with pride and adoration at how well he follows commands, even without a treat. First words and first steps dazzle some; for me, it's sit, stay, come, sit, down, okay, good boy.

It's probably about time for the biological clocks of my generation to start sounding, but Grady-boy is all plenty of family for me.