Like more than 23 million other American households, Nader and I added a puppy to our family during the pandemic. It had been more than seven years since a pet took center stage in our lives—and precisely 2,555 of those days were spent putting that loss behind us. I never thought we’d have another dog. But as COVID-19 forced us to shrink our social circles, our hearts opened to the threat of complete and total (domination) infatuation with a new best friend.

And fall head over heels, we did. From the moment we saw the five-pound furry ball of sweetness, Archie became the single best thing in an otherwise quiet and unremarkable time. Every two hours for those first few weeks, we introduced him to a particular patch of turf and rooted for him like Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders when he made a successful “touchdown.” We coached him on the art of walking on a leash and organized puppy playdates until we were sure he could exercise good sportsmanship and restraint. We reveled in the routine of life with our dog and prided ourselves on being good puppy parents.

However, one year and 22 pounds later, I realized Archie had been teaching me. Not because he demands to be the center of my universe (he does), but because his approach to life models healthy behaviors. Here are just a few life lessons I’ve learned from my dog.

Lesson 1: Shake off the small stuff
As good as life is for him, sometimes it isn’t easy being Archie. Other dogs snap at him for being too eager, or mom scolds him for using a hand-knotted Persian rug as his chew toy. But Archie doesn’t let temporary unpleasantness ruin his otherwise happy day. Less than five minutes later, all is forgotten. He sports his cheery disposition (and a mouthful of wool) as if nothing terrible happened.

I admire his this-too-shall-pass approach and have tried to integrate it into my own life. With the inconveniences of COVID, the last few years have had their moments for everyone. Still, I refuse to let temporary challenges bring me down. I can’t control if and when a new variant robs me of a vacation or stew because my husband is back at the office while I’m home alone. Get behind me, negativity! Archie and I will not let a fleeting sour moment ruin our day.

Lesson 2: Take time to smell the [insert noun]
Whoever coined the term “take time to smell the roses” most likely owned a dog. Archie literally breathes in every inch of his surroundings—whether roses, the neighbor’s tire, or goose poop.

Pleasant or unpleasant, he sniffs as though he’s evaluating fine wine. More than just a passing fascination, he examines and probes each curiosity for everything it has to offer. And as I watch Archie indiscriminately savor every second on our walks, I realize I need to do a better job of living in the moment, taking in both the good and the bad for every lesson they might teach me.

Lesson 3: Love is never the same
I worried I would never love another pet like I did my first, who was just a tyke when Nader and I married and moved around the globe. He was a star—a gorgeous animal with an easy, friendly nature that made him a regular conversation starter with people who would eventually become dear friends. In fact, more neighbors knew his name than mine. I didn’t mind the competition. Having a pet made it easier to feel at home, even when the house was thousands of miles from anything we’d ever known. We adored him, and when he passed, our lives dimmed.

But since the day we gathered Archie in our arms, he has brightened our days and brought joyful focus again. Although he isn’t a crowd-pleaser like our first, Archie plays for an audience of exactly two people, which only endears him to Nader and me even more. Equal parts goofy and tenacious, Archie is an acquired taste—but one I find delightful.

What surprises me most about pet ownership the second time around is how little Archie reminds me of our beloved first dog. Because their personalities are entirely different, I don’t spend time comparing the two—and this is a relief.

My initial worry turned out to be true: I will never love another pet quite like I loved my first. But I do love Archie. I just love him differently. Far from rivalry or competition, this new love takes nothing away from what I once felt. The heart is a muscle, after all—it thrives on being exercised. Having the courage to love after loss, committing to another creature who is completely dependent, strengthens and expands my heart and my appreciation for the opportunity to feel such joy again.