First, I should admit that I am a morning person. One of those really annoying types who is at my best and most cheerful first thing in the morning. I generally wake up before my alarm, lay there peacefully for a moment or two, and then stretch & get up to start the day.
I, however, am the world’s grumpiest person in the world in the morning compared to my pup.
This little guy literally leaps with joy when it is time for the first ‘go out’ of the day…it’s been soooooooo long since the last one of the evening literally HOURS before, after all. In that moment or two before I get up for the day that I mentioned above, he is by the bed, staring at me intently, tail wagging, imploring me to PLEASE GET UP ALREADY. He bounces around like a jumping bean in front of me while I pull on enough clothing to not shock the neighbors while giving him his morning walk (the definition of ‘enough’ is a flexible concept depending on what is close and not visibly dirty).
Then, once he’s supervised the dressing appropriately, he races back and forth between me and the door to make sure I haven’t forgotten how to get there. Again, it’s been quite a while, so you can’t leave these things to chance!
Once I’ve ever so slowly made my way to the door (at least to him), he dances from foot to foot while I put the leash on, nose to the doorjamb and usually with a toy in his mouth.
Now, in our house we have a rule: no toys on the morning walk. This rule evolved over the first few months of our time together when it became apparent that toys on the way out meant carrying toys back on the way in – for me. Apparently toys are only interesting until the SMELLS OF THE WORLD are available, and then suddenly they are BORING and not to be touched. The caveat is that if you THROW the toy, it captures smells in the wind and becomes once again enrapturing, but that is generally too much to fit into this morning excursion. So there you go. Him, so eager to go out he’s trembling with anticipation, but mean ol’ me not opening the door until the toy is out of the mouth.
Hence, at this point in the routine, there’s a 1/2 second pause where I wait with my hand on the doorknob before opening the door, allowing him to drop the toy (directly in front of the door). I then open the door and sweep the toy out of the way and off we go.
Racing down the stairs, out the door, do the business, and back; we arrive once again at the door and as soon as slow-poke me opens it, he’s racing around to the other side to grab the precious toy cargo that he’s been parted from for all of 15-20 minutes.
This is followed by a race around the house with the toy in ‘self-play’ where he throws it around and grabs it before he settles down enough (again, after 20 or so minutes) to start bringing it to me to throw. I’m usually composing my gourmet breakfast of shredded wheat and banana at this point, so it works for us, because by the time I sit down to eat, he’s ready for as many throws as I’m willing to give.
At this point, I think it’s worth sharing that he’s over 13 years old, and this behavior has not changed a single day in his long life.
He really is the most joyful being I’ve ever seen start the day. And it is an honor to begin it with him…because after seeing that kind of jubilation, there really isn’t anything that the world can bring that completely erases the seed of joy that you’ve been given.
Love that pup!
Overly Honest 