My Morning Routine
As surprising as this may be, my human wakes up before I do.
Before I was allowed up on the big dog bed, I would sidle my way into her crate
and nose her leg with my snout—I had to GO OUT, if you know what I mean. But
once she allowed me up there with her, and I was able to burrow under what the
human calls “blankets,” waiting to use the green potty wasn’t so ruff.
It takes her a little bit of time to coax me out of bed;
it’s a den of warmth and delight. Being short-haired, I’m almost always cold,
so taking me from my warm place is next to torture, (it’s almost as bad as
going to the vet) but my human knows this. To make up for it, she puts some
yellow fluffy stuff in my food dish, on top of my kibble. I’ve noticed that if
I don’t eat the kibble, she’ll add some chicken, too. I think this has fast
become my favorite trick to perform for her: if I don’t eat, she sits on the
floor and scratches my belly. If I sniff the food and then walk away, she puts
other treats in my dish. This doesn’t always work, but it almost always does.
After I eat, I go outside to do my business. I appreciate my
over me; going potty makes one vulnerable. To show her that I thank
her, I try and look up into her face for acknowledgement, but she always looks
away; I know it’s because she’s standing watch and can’t be distracted. When
I’m finished, we go back inside. I then decide where I’m going to take a nap.
But before I have time to complete my
third circle, I hear a
jingle-jangle and I know: WE’RE GOING TO THE PARK! I’M GOING TO THE PARK!
Sometimes I’m wrong about the park, and we end up going to
the vet, but not today, my friends! My person attaches a long string thing
(what she calls a leash) to one of my beautiful
that I am currently wearing and then she tells me to jump. Landing
gracefully on the gravel, I and my human prance to the green grass where I see
my friends playing fetch with their humans or soaking up some sun.
We all have our own place in the pack, and I am the Diva.
There’s Manny, Princess and Skittles too. I’m usually the only one still “on
leash,” but that’s because my human says I’m feisty. I have a few names: Diva,
Don’t Jump and Get Down. I don’t like the last two so much, but it’s whatever,
I’m little and cute and everyone loves me, that’s what my human says.
Sometimes my human takes my leash and collar off and I run
free and wild—but she’s quick to put them back on, saying I look naked,
whatever that means. As long as I can play, I don’t care!