Mornings

Since I'm usually the earlier riser in our house, my first job upon descending the stairs is to fight off two black dog-beasts demanding breakfast.  Occasionally I make them wait for me to start my tea, but its easier to get them out of the way, literally.  After they've had their morning ablutions, we all sit down for some quiet reading time.  I love the quiet of the morning to delve into a book.

Then its time to feed three bellowing donkeys.  Into the mudroom to don coat and boots as two dogs sit and stare.  The next step is tricky.  No matter how many times we review, Gunner forgets.  You have to sit and wait for me to open the door, get outside and give the command that you may follow through after me.  Dudley was introduced to this concept in obedience school a few years ago and usually listens well, but Gunner...sweet Gunner, ah well.

Once the command is given, one dog promptly rushes top speed out the back garage door to investigate who-knows-what, while the other rushes to the cat's litter box.  Sweet delights it contains. Finally everyone gathers at the front of the garage.  I swing my bike into action to cruise down the driveway to three awaiting donkeys who swear they're starving, every...darn...morning.