(This is part of the Slice of Life project at Two Writing Teachers)
You should see our dog in the mornings. We let him sleep on our kids’ beds (not ours) and they have devised an elaborate system for who gets the lunk for the night. (They even have a theme song, sung to Eddie Money, about “Duke’s on my bed tonight, he’s gonna sleep right there until the morning light …”)
My job is to grab him in the mornings and get him outside, and he is often bunkered down hard, huddled up against the boy and reluctant to come with me. He”ll twist away, stretch his head, push his paws out, whatever. I’m always amazed at how much bed he takes up with his long legs (he’s part lab and part hound, and he has this incredible long, lean body.)
In the dark, I am searching for his collar because the only way to get him is to slowly drag his prone body to the edge of the bed, hold out my hands to catch him (all 60 pounds of him) before he falls and then guide him downstairs. He’ll stretch and yawn and then, with the collar in my hand, he bobs and weaves his head away from me.
All the while, his tail is wagging. It’s an odd way to start the days, but there you go.
Peace (with the dog),