Rusty sprawls across the back while Rex is nearly snoozing and Julie is likely in the crook of my elbow purring.
My lanky dog Rex thinks he is a lap dog. He tethers me to a series of morning routines; all about him. First, out to go potty, he takes a few nibbles of kibble and then he sprawls across my lap while I sip my latte. Generally, he remains still enabling me to bring the mug toward me for a sip, however an occasional 'I think I will chase the cat now!' upsets not only my sip but my peace too. When the moments pass without a chase, I am bound to my recliner for an indeterminate amount of time until he is bored or becomes too hot for people contact. Most mornings Rex, Rusty our dachshund and Julie our big money cat share room and attention. The series of events witnessed predictably each morning may go unnoticed for some, but I find it an extraordinary start of my days.
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