The alarm sounds. I open one eye, slap the snooze button and try to pretend it didn’t happen.
But it’s too late.
My brain is awake, and more importantly, so are the dogs.
They know what that sound means.
They know their human is rising to meet their needs.
I throw back the quilt cover and my husband moans his complaints, for I’ve let a little cold air into the sanctuary. I mumble apologies but they’re half-hearted really. I’m always hopeful my wonderful partner will come with me. One foot, then the other hits the carpeted floor and I stand; stretching and ironing out the creases of sleep.
The dogs join me in this ritual. I hear their multi-footed dismount from the bed to the floor. They elongate one rear leg then the other before pulling back onto their haunches. Eyes wide open; expectant and watching my every move.
I dress myself in active wear, wrap a scarf around my neck and plonk a beanie on my head.
This is not what they are waiting for.
As I walk over to my dresser and pull out a pair of socks, their tails start wagging.
Once one sock is on, they move a little closer to where I am.
But when I reach for the runners, they start to turn excited circles; dancing a doggie duet around each other.
They know it is time.
I ask them, just to be sure, “Is it time?”
They start yipping with anticipation.
“Are you sure it’s time?” I tease.
The yipping becomes louder.
“Is it time for walkies?” I exclaim.
They jump up and down, yelping, “Yes, yes, yes!”
I clip the leads around their neck and off we head into the cold, pre-dawn morning. The icy air blasts my face and wakes me up.
I love this time of day.
By Sarah ©2017