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Old 07-21-2012, 07:48 PM
DKHickman (Offline)
Let me introduce myself
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Join Date: Jul 2012
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My Dog, My Friend


My alarm goes off. I'm so tired, I think. I press snooze and beg for just a few more minutes of sleep. I feel Paisley, our Doberman mix, stealthily slip under the covers with me.

She does this every morning. It's a ritual of ours, this morning routine. I allow her up only between the alarm clocks. In return, it's the only part of the day she isn't rambunctious.

I stuff my sleepy face in her soft fur and sniff the familiar corn-chip doggy smell that I love so much. In another 20 minutes she'll be begging for breakfast along with the rest of the family. But right now she's soft, she's so warm...


I sigh, punch the button, and fifty pounds of dog stretches under the covers making it an awkward fit for all of us. I join her in stretching and she sighs and drags herself out of bed, doing the upward dog the whole way off. I'm right behind her.

We mosey to the kitchen where I punch the button for the coffee and pour some kibble in her bowl. She eats while I wait for my Cup O' Life and we go outside. While she bustles about her morning routine, I sit on the patio drinking the draft of the living.

In many ways, Paisley and I are the same. We live to serve our family. Perhaps in different ways, but I've seen her nuzzle my daughter in a down moment, wag her tail when my husband gets home, and she always cooks with me--even if it's just to scour the floor.

I, too, hold my daughter when she's sad, get excited for my husband to come home, and I can't deny cooking because, well, I like to eat.

It's the morning, though, that we carve time out for ourselves. I hate waking up, but I love these quiet moments with my dog, my friend.