I'm a very comfortable dog. I love lounging on the bed or on the couch (provided I don't get caught) and I especially enjoy snuggling up beside a warm human or a fluffy blanket. I'm also a world class sleeper. If sleeping were an Olympic sport, I'd win the gold metal every time. I'm not particularly fond of waking up in the morning and every evening I try herding my humans to bed at 8pm (very rarely do I succeed and I show my displeasure--what can I say, I'm a poor loser?--by whining, barking, and ripping up my toys). Still, despite not being a morning dog, every weekday I wake up when Pa does and help him eat his breakfast, make lunches, and then I take him for a walk (don't tell him I told, but he gets cranky if he doesn't get his morning walk).
This morning was different though; this morning Pa woke up early because he was due in at work before his usual time. As a matter of fact, I was rudely awoken by the sound of Pa wandering around in the kitchen at some ungodly hour of the morning, but, after groggily lifting my head up from Sister's bed, I made the executive decision that it was way too early even for me--Pa's kind hearted, handsome, and ever faithful pup--to get involved in anything he was doing. So I did the only thing I could do: I sighed, snuggled up closer to Sister (I also gave a her nudge to see if maybe she'd roll out of bed thereby allowing me the opportunity to spread out), and went back to sleep.
A couple of hours later, I heard Ma in the kitchen. Groggily, I jumped off Sister's bed, stretched, yawned, and meandered down the stairs to where my breakfast bowl was waiting. I looked inside it and couldn't help but sigh with disappointment. Now, don't get me wrong, I love kibble almost as much as I love Milkbones (which is my favorite treat), but you can't blame a dog for wishing that just once there would be a giant filet mignon lying in the bottom of the bowl or that there would be at least three times the amount of kibble normally there (need I mention again that my bff Mecki gets nearly as much food as I do each day?). Anyway, my disappointment was short lived: I ate the kibble.
After finishing my breakfast, I appeased Ma by agreeing to go outside to do my business and patrol the perimeters of the property (got to make sure the squirrels don't take over, or worse, start digging in my snow mountain). As soon as I was finished, I scurried back inside the house, walked right past Ma, and went straight up the stairs to Sister's room. I jumped onto the bed, circled three times, and curled back up next to Sister. I didn't wake up again until after Sister did an hour later.
It's a lot of hard work taking care of Pa every morning. I personally think that I earned my reward of sleeping late.
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