Introducing, William!

Boyfriend was on his best behavior this week, bringing me all sorts of "gifts" and thanking me for the dinners I cooked. He even *gasp* did the entire sink of dishes without my asking. Apparently, someone's been reading my blog. Because of Boyfriend's complete lack of uselessness this week, my usual compilation of complaints seems almost cruel and unusual. Thus, I've decided to take this opportunity to introduce you to someone very special in our lives, our proudest accomplishment, William. Something you may not have known? Boyfriend and I are the overly-eager adoptive parents to one very lucky young man. Here's his story...

William, born on December 19th, 2006, came into my life only days before Christmas of 2007 in the Panera Bread parking lot. It was meant to be from the moment he dramatically leaped into my arms in front of a crowded patio. Nearly escaping death by shelter, William instantly fell in love with my warm bed and forced affection. For the next three years we rode side-by-side in my pickup truck Southernland-style while listening to nonsense punk music. William received a weekly allowance and was groomed twice a month at the local Petsmart. He was my baby and probably the most over-sized accessory dog ever actually pulled off.

William wearing a bib, naturally. 

Boyfriend joined our duo three years later and has been making life difficult for us ever since. He's taught William nonsense "animalistic activties" such as aggression, chasing squirrels (see last week's post), and one habit for which I am most resentful. Together, William and Boyfriend constantly hatch elaborate schemes to harass and agitate the enemy - me. 

William sent this as a Valentine to someone special. 

Never to be at the end of a losing fight, I of course stake revenge in my own way. Take for instance the time William could not stop scratching his face, leaving it raw and sore. He'd spend his time purposefully rubbing his bloody nose on my pants and comforter. Boyfriend and I bought a plastic cone to put on him, much to my delight his dismay. Then, to further the humiliation, I wrapped William's feet in men's socks and posed him for a photo. His expression says it all. I win. 

Sometimes I worry he hates me. 

And when my plans to embarrass my little over-emotional ball of fur fail? I dress him in ridiculous outfits and parade him for the neighbors to gawk at. My favorite is the elf costume that comes out around Christmas when William can't keep his nose away from my candy canes. 

Boyfriend is most fond of William's sweater set. 

Do I realize we sound like a crazy couple who takes their pet far too seriously? Yes, of course. We take everything far too seriously. The worst fight we have begins in the kitchen sink. But William is our baby; he has his own little personality that fits right into our little family. Boyfriend often refers to us as William's Mommy and Daddy, which I don't dispute. I mean, in a three year relationship I had to find something else to talk about besides Boyfriend's theory of a zombie apocalypse. The bonus? I don't actually have to make one of those awful snotty-nosed crying things, Boyfriend is perfectly satisfied with the son he's got.