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Elementary school teacher Katey Hartsock had zero intentions of adopting a pet when she surprised her husband with a trip to a brand-new dog rescue and lounge in Washington State.
And, naturally, that's precisely what happened anyway.
'A coworker got tickets for her birthday but couldn't go. As we pulled up my husband said, "Katey, we are NOT getting a dog. Don't even start."'
That resolve crumbled the moment nine tiny puppies greeted them at Are You My Human? Dog Rescue and Lounge.
'We kept asking if they were stuffed animals, they were so cute,' she said. 'You walk in, you sit down, and you get absolutely buried in puppies. Then one fell asleep in my husband's arms.'
Will and Yael Peet beam beside their newly adopted pup, Bashere.
One of the nine, a pup named Guava, really stole their hearts. With a black-and-tan Coonhound mother and a big question mark for a father, the mitten-pawed pup was the gentlest of the litter.
The Hartsocks came back almost every other day until, a week later, the adoption was final.
Now sharing a home with the endlessly curious pup—their first dog as adults—the couple is smitten. And being a thoroughly modern dog, Guava has her very own Instagram account.
'She loves water. We got her a kiddie pool and she loves zooming straight through it. She's so smart. And of course, she sleeps with us,' Hartsock says. 'We love her so much.'
Hartsock is just one of a growing wave of pet lovers who stroll into the newly opened dog lounge to simply browse—only to walk out with a furry family member.
The 1,500-square-foot retail space in Bellingham, WA—once a jewelry store—now draws lineups before the doors even open, people clamouring for a cuddle with the adoptable pups inside.
Partnering with local and out-of-state rescues—some strays shipped all the way from Texas—the business offers a pressure-free meeting ground for dog lovers, whether they're hunting puppy snuggles or a new roommate.
Adoptable dogs at play in the cafe.
Couches and comfy seating are everywhere, but most days you'll find the crowd gathered in a safely spaced campfire circle, simply playing and bonding with the puppies.
Success came fast—12 dogs found homes within the first five weeks, including seven Coonhound-cross pups from Guava's own litter; Missy Mae, a three-year-old Cockapoo; a two-year-old Bull Terrier named Stella; Snow White the tiny Maltese; Ron the Chiweenie; and Bella, a Yorkshire Terrier surrendered after her owner passed away.
So far they've hosted 1,500 guests—an average of about 300 every week.
The cafe is helmed by father-of-five Devin Parks and his wife Samantha, transplants from California. But it's anything but a typical dog rescue.
Every night after closing, every single dog goes home with Parks, each treated like a cherished family pet. None of them spend the night in a crate.
If that sounds like a handful, you're exactly right. At one point 14 dogs crowded Parks' suburban home—nine of them puppies—alongside their five kids aged five to twelve, plus three of their own dogs: a pocket Pit Bull, Kuechly the Rat Terrier, and Stella the Bull Terrier.
'It's totally organized chaos,' Parks says. 'A ton is going on, but all the kids pitch in.'
Devin Parks surrounding by his pack of adoptable dogs.
Parks calls his oldest, Trevor (12), his 'second-hand man,' who helps manage the daily chaos. They're also reworking their backyard into a canine wonderland with dog runs and little 'castles' for the pups.
The goal is a noble one from Devin, who once managed PetSmart stores in Oregon and Bellingham: treat dogs like family, not product, before they're placed in their forever homes.
'Dogs will always feel at home here,' he says. 'They'll always feel like house pets—interacting with and being loved by our family.'
Katey and Kris Hartsock with their adopted pup, Guava
Devin is used to relentless motion. Besides running the cafe seven hours a day, six days a week, he works at Costco from 4 am to 9 am on weekdays, then heads home to gather the dogs for the lounge. The cafe closes on Mondays for adoption day—but even then he's processing dogs and ferrying them to new homes.
'I get about four hours of sleep a night. That's roughly the window. Starbucks is essential,' he laughs.
As for the chaos of a dozen-plus dogs indoors? Not a problem. The Parks have run a cleaning business for the past four years.
'No mess is too big,' he jokes.
Different reasons to walk through the door
What's truly moved the Parks are the countless reasons people walk into their little operation.
Some have a family member at home with a dog allergy, so it's a safe place to get their canine fix. Others are homesick college students missing the pets they left behind—a welcome refresh during final exams to stay positive and clear the stress, Parks notes.
But the people who inspire them most are those mourning a lost pet of their own.
'They're ready to heal from that loss. Those are the intimate, tender moments we see—people who just want a quiet dog on their lap,' he says.
Parks' drive to open the cafe traces back years to when he had to give up a family pet as his daughter was a baby. Today he effectively has dozens of family pets—and, understandably, he's become fiercely picky about who gets to adopt one.
He prides himself on a model where the dogs choose their humans, and pets and people come together organically—rather than people simply buying a dog.
'I care so much about these dogs. I want to raise them right so they become the best dog for someone else,' he says. 'Someone special.'
And while the cafe has seen irresistibly cute litters everyone scrambles to adopt, the Parks never shy from the harder-to-place dogs.
Take Ron Weasley, named for the redheaded wizard of Harry Potter—a Chihuahua/Dachshund mix who was never going to win a beauty pageant. Hit by a car and reeling from mange, the young dog had lost swaths of his hair. On top of that, the little guy didn't much like anyone.
'He was only a year and a half, but he'd clearly seen some rough times. Ron had bare patches, a limp and traits that just don't grab people's attention.'
After two weeks at the cafe, a mom walked in with her teenage daughter. The girl's emotional support dog was dying of cancer, and her mother wanted to help her prepare for the loss.
And this little dog who liked no one—who'd even nip at people—saw the teen and simply lay down. Quickly, Devin says, that moment became a permanent adoption.
'When I dropped him off at their house, he closed his eyes and he was at peace,' Parks said.
Turning Skeptics Into Believers
Katey Hartsock and her husband never set out to rescue a shelter pup. In fact, they'd planned to buy a Bernedoodle from a breeder later that year.
But once they saw how many wonderful pups were simply waiting for their forever homes, choosing to adopt through the cafe felt entirely natural, she says.
'There's already a dog out there in the world just waiting to be adopted,' she says. 'We would rather adopt than buy now, 100 percent.'
And just like Parks, Hartsock is now a true believer that a humble cafe can serve as the conduit connecting rescue dogs to their perfect forever families.
'It's kind of a second chance for some of these dogs,' she says.
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