A dog morning

These dogs are like children! After bouncing off the walls at 5:30 on Saturday AND Sunday morning, now, as I drag out of bed on Monday morning, they do not even open one eye to glare at me.

Both mornings this weekend began with Kira’s tail beating in rhythmic excitement against the side of the bed. That’s what happens when you get old. The “thunk, thunk, thunk” of the bed in the early morning are puppy tails, and the subsequent groans issuing from the bed are not joyous.
John reached down and struggled to open the doggie door without actually getting out of bed. I groused at him – It’s still 5-something in the morning! On a Sunday! They don’t need out that early! But it’s grand central station around the doggie door, two feet from the bed.

Now it is Monday. My alarm went off at 6:00. My brain struggles to orient. Monday. Not a single dog appears. I leaned over and opened the doggie door. Nothing. I got up at 6:10. The dogs didn’t stir, didn’t even so much as roll over. I opened the back door to let in the cool morning air. Kira might have looked at me as I walked past. Or maybe I was imagining it.
I went into the kitchen and turned on the bright overhead light. Not even a yawn or stretch from the dogs. I opened the refrigerator. I ran the microwave. Ding-diddle-link-ding! Nothing. I walked right up to the coach where the girls were sleeping to retrieve my computer. They didn’t move. I crawled back to bed with my computer and my coffee.
Sometime later, around 6:30, I see Rosie trot by; she seems to be looking for John. Not finding him, she settles back down on the bedroom rug and goes back to sleep. Kira and Kai are still happily zonked. And no one has used the doggie door yet.
By the time I was dressed and ready to leave for my morning jog, Kia was leisurely stretching, rubbing his face on the rug, and starting to wonder about his breakfast. Kira, the only dog who is young enough to keep up with my slow jog, was still asleep on the couch – or at least pretending to be. Fine. This morning I feel like jogging alone.