Who Needs An Alarm Clock?

It's a well know fact that dogs thrive on routine.  And my Three Amigo's have their morning routine down perfect. 

They herd me along as I stumble down the hallway to the kitchen.  They're worse than static cling first thing in the morning.  They expect things to get done in a certain way and in a timely manner. 

Trouble is, Mamma just don't move that fast anymore. 

I used to be the type that could roll out of bed and be instantly awake.  Not so much anymore. 

I turn the kitchen light on and stand there.. blurry, fuzzy and muzzy staring at the sticky note I stuck to the picture over the sink last night that says (in heavy black marker) DEB 8:30. 

(*I do that now...sticky notes that is.  Over the years, I have developed the dreaded CRS disease that comes with age.  Can't Remember Shit for those of you under 30 reading this blog.)

Anyhow, I'm standing there looking at this note remembering that I've got an 8:30 gig this morning with my neighbors Deb and Jean.  Jean is big into charity work and I guess there's some sort of sign up/donation thing that is happening at the local park here in town for some sort of walk-a-thon.   I'm still not sure what it's about or who it benefits but both Deb and Jean called me last night to make sure I'd be over at Deb's at 8:30 to drive over.  Sure.

So I stand there...staring.  Eventually I turn around and find 3 pairs of eyes regarding me.  I stare back.  Ginny's eyes flick from me to the counter where the snackies are and back again to me.  Her pupils are clouding up with cataracts.  "She'll be blind in a few more years." I think to myself.  

Her silvery eyes flick back and forth again. 

This time the message hits.  "Oh!  You want your snackies." 

(I give the dogs a small milkbone in the morning to prevent the "yurps".  Both Ginny and Casey have overactive tummies.  If I don't get them a bit of food in their bellies when they wake up, they "yurp" up that nice yellow bile.  Not something a girl needs to see first thing in the morning.)

Snackies ingested, I walk over to the back door and open it.  "Go outside?"  I ask. 

All three dogs just stand there looking at me like "Why would we go outside in our backyard to do our business?  Aren't you taking us for a walk?"  I close the backdoor.  Fine.  But now you've got to wait for me to take care of my business.

Never get a dog (or a cat) if you like your bathroom privacy.  No such thing.  Closing doors creates scratches and wines which is not desirable when SM is still in sleepyland.  So first Casey comes in and stands there looking at me.  I pat her on the head.  She wanders out.  Then Scooter comes in and jumps up on me to make sure I'm still alive.  I pet him and tell him he's a good boy.  He wanders out.  Ginny on the other hand treats our spare bathroom with a healthy respect.  In her mind it's one of the most evil places on the planet.  It's where she gets her baths and she might hang out at the door, but she rarely comes in.

I start brushing my teeth when I notice that all tree dogs are in the bathroom with me (and this is a small bathroom). 

"Get Out!" I say carefully as I've got toothpaste foam in my mouth.  Instantly tails start wagging, banging into the wall.  "Sssshhh" I say spraying more foam.  Tails start banging more.   Crap!  I rinse quickly, then head into the spare bedroom where I keep my clothes.

Casey jumps up on the bed.  Ginnys at my feet and Scooter is guarding the door.  They assume these positions everyday. Everyday!!  Clothes on, I head down the hallway with Scooter racing ahead, Ginny at my hip and Casey somewhere between the two.

A little more awake now, I make SM's coffee and take my allergy pill.  The dogs hover. 

I walk to the hallway closet to gear up.  Collars are attached.  The ladies stand in certain positions while Scooter runs through their legs with excitement.  Casey jumps up and puts her front legs on my back when I bend over to put my shoes on.  I feel her stretching.

We head out and do 2 miles this morning.  The dogs are fired up.  Spring must have lots of interesting sniffies cause they stop every few yards and then drag me forward to the next one.

Back at home, they patiently wait for me to gear everyone down.  Then they race to the pantry where the food is.

Casey is always there in case I drop some kibble.  I take the food bowls out and start to place them in a certain order and position.

Scooter first, then Ginny, then Casey who is jumping and rearing up like she's My Pretty Pony, she's so excited.

This happens the same way day in and day out, 365 days a year.  Just as I've described it above. 

Except the toothpaste spew. 

That was new today.

Remarkable.