William T. Brooks, Jr.

After a great deal of discussion and some debate, we have acquired a new dog. Actually we acquired him in May during what can only be described as a whirlwind of work, end of school and vacation. It seemed like the worst time to get a dog and in fact, it was.

However, we had been looking for a dog, a very specific dog for some time. Steve wanted a Boston Terrier because he was a Boston Terrier back in the day. No, I am not talking about reincarnation, rather he played football at Boston University, Home of the Terriers.

So since we met, he had wanted a Boston Terrier and he wanted to name him Billy Brooks after the last BU football player to play in the NFL. True story. However, I had my own qualifications for the dog. I have a moral opposition to small dogs, particularly small, hyper dogs. I also refused to pay a breeder hundreds of dollars for a puppy. I did not even want a puppy. I wanted a trained adult that we could squeeze into our busy lives.

Then I saw an ad for a 9 month-old Boston Terrier on my local mommy website. His owners didn't have time for him and wanted to re-home him. This dog seemed to fit most of our criteria. We had to agree to continue with the dog trainer who had been hired to tame him. We went to visit this dog and the dog was out of control hyper and ill-mannered. I then called the trainer to discuss. The trainer described the dog as psychotic but noted that he had been encouraged by his owners to be crazy and was really smart and she assured us that with some proper training he would be a good family dog.

Ok, deep breath. I agonized over this decision as if we were adopting another child, because well, in a sense we were. Grace would probably go off to college while we still had this dog.

In true Lechner attitude with the triumph of hope over experience, we brought Billy home. Much like the arrival of a newborn, the first weeks were a blur and he was pretty much tethered to me when he wasn't in his crate. But we kept with the training and he is a greatly improved dog. He is still energetic but at levels we can live with. He is no longer seeking to destroy every item in the house. He curls up sweetly in our bed every night and won't move until I get up in the morning. He is calmly laying at my feet now while I type this.

To say that Abe adores this dog is an understatement. I thought it would wear off but every morning, he asks first thing "Where's Billy?" He and Billy wrestle and play and run and jump and wrestle some more. Billy hasn't bitten him yet or even been the slightest bit aggressive which is a miracle because Abe is rough sometimes and could use a nip now and then.

All of this was put into perspective for me this morning. Abe and I were reading this touching book and I thought had a poignant moment between us. I hugged him and said "Abe, I love you always." I thought he would respond in kind but instead he hugged the dog and said, "Mom, I like Billy best."

PS: Extra bonus points if you guess what the "T" stands for in his name. You can leave your guess in the comments.