Morning Glory

I woke this morning to a cold snout pressed against my neck. Snuffle, snuffle. Swatting at the offending proboscis, I rolled over and squinted at the clock. Cripes, 5:12.

"Lay down", I growled into the large, animated face.

Stitch dropped his elephantine ears to half mast and slunk back to his floor mat, visions of dog kibble dancing in his head. My attempt to roll over was thwarted by the Yorkies, two fuzzy dead weights plastered against my side.

I absently stroked Biggles' head while mentally waving a white flag. Forget going back to sleep now. Booting Strawberry off my legs, I clambered out of bed. Feet in fuzzy sheepskin, I padded down the hall, absentmindedly boosting the thermostat on my way to the kettle.

In the kitchen, Trouble twined his vibrating body around my legs. I scooped him up, stroked his back and checked his provisions. Plenty of food and water. I chucked him outside like an animated football and headed back up the hallway.

Settling back in bed under down quilt, homemade afghan, and fuzzy fleece layers, waiting for the house and water to warm, I drowsily contemplated life.

Soon my girls would be even more gone than they were now. Just me and the animal kingdom. Random bluesy thoughts bumped into each other as I entered the half state between awake and asleep.

The piercing sound of the kettle brought me back with a start. I scrambled to silence its' fury before it shrieked the rest of the house awake. Three dogs bumping into my heels, I threw a blanket over my shoulders and released them to the crisp air. Back in the warmth, I filled their bowls and sat down while they gobbled breakfast.

One green tea and a Boston Globe later, I stretched and smiled at the sounds of my morning. Outside the cat meowed for re-entry. Stitch chewed noisily on a bone while Strawberry snored and drooled in a corner. Biggles sat on my foot gazing intently at my face as if to gauge my mood.

Water running somewhere in the house indicated the presence of another life form. If I wanted a shower I needed to queue up, and soon. As I stood and stretched, I thought how lucky I was to wake up surrounded by adoring fans each morning. How better to start the day?

Humming, I stepped into my room and set my bare foot into a soft warm pile. After adding light and spectacles, it appeared that Stitch had returned some rubber toy pieces along with a portion of his breakfast. Heading for paper towels and spray cleaner, I told myself to hold tightly to the happy thought of moments before...