Although it may seem as though your sole purpose in life is to be scary-looking and protective, I have a few reassurances for you that will hopefully make your job seem less complicated.
Yes, you will be my “guard dog.” However, in addition to looking like a terrifying creature of destruction, sounding like an alarm system on steroids, and physically being capable of preventing any serious harm to, well, me? I will expect you to be house trained. Well-behaved. Pleasant in polite company (that of serial killers, rapists, vandals, etc. excluded. Obviously.) Your vicious appearance will be tempered by a heart of sincerity and devotion. Your strength shall be evened out by a passion for life and sly sense of humor.
We’ll be a team, little dude. You’ll be the T to my Rex, the cream cheese to my bagel. That kind of thing. We’ll grow old together; or, more likely, you’ll grow old and I’ll grow middle-aged. It’ll probably just be me you’ll have to deal with, but who knows? Maybe other interesting characters will wander into the picture. Naturally I’ll trust your judgment when it comes to who I spend my personal time with.
Oh, and okay. So there’s one other little hitch I hope you’ll be okay with. That unconditional love bit? You’ll have to stretch it on your end for me, since I kind of crack the sound barrier with my voice on a daily basis. I can try to get you your own room, depending on what apartment we live in. You might have to just chill in the kitchen while I practice. Sorry bud.
Other than that, I think we will be the freakin’ dream team. A build in bff system. That’s us, you and me, me and you, us. I don’t know what your name will be, I don’t know where we’ll meet, or when, or how. I don’t know how I think I’m going to afford to share my life with you (the last part’s a joke. Kind-of.). But I promise that, when I am at a point where I am financially able, semi-paranoid/lonely, and living on my own, we will meet and our lives will mesh.
And there you have it. Just something to look forward to.