After reading Darcy Haury’s slice about her morning walks and yesterday’s inspiration, I decided to try my own morning reflection.
She hears the alarm just as loud as I do. She’s patient today though, no barks, just waiting. I walk in, open her crate door, and am greeted by a fiercely wagging tail and a desperate need for my petting.
As usual, we head to the back door. But today, she brings her “mini” along. I usually try not to let her take this favorite toy outside, but I’m tired and she’s begging me with those puppy eyes. Surprisingly, “mini” makes it back inside with her. We meet at the food bowl, but she’s not ready to eat. She follows me to the couch, jumping up, and nestles in my lap. She needs a little more time with me before breakfast.
By the time I’m almost done doing my hair, she’s at the bathroom door, “mini” at her side, begging me to come. I hook up her leash and we are ready to go.
It’s always the same route, but she sniffs away like it’s new. We see the same neighbor we see everyday, our morning routines matching up like clockwork, and I give him a smile and say, “Good morning.”
We pass the house with the two dogs who go crazy when we walk by. She glances still, but doesn’t bark back. We pass the house that keeps their doggie poo bags permanently on the curb and I pull her leash to avoid the sniffs.
Before we know it, the walk is over and we are back home. She jumps on the couch and I grab my work bag. She settles in for a nap and I’m off. And she waits patiently, filling her day with toys, naps, and rearranging the pillows, until I’m back home.