Chosen Pathways

I stand on my hind legs and peer through the window and notice that she has already started that coffee-thing she turns on first thing every morning, and she is feeding those pesky varmints, the cats. Look at them winding around her legs and meowing as she fixes their dishes. They are such spoiled babies! They always seem to get fed first, and we don't know why, but we think she does that so we can eat our meals in peace.

I notice the smell of the coffee filtering through the air as she fills our bowls and is fixing our food. I give a quick bay to the boys, signaling them that they need to get up here with me on the deck as it is almost time to go inside to eat. Beau comes tearing across the lawn, makes one leap and is on the deck beside me. How does he always do that so gracefully? I tried that once and I skidded into the table out here on the deck, and took out two chairs, and landed in a heap in the corner of the latticework. Kipper and Beau keep reminding me that my landing was not a pretty picture. Kipper takes his sweet old time waddling up here to join us. He has an old injury to his knee and doesn't sprint much these days. Is he feeling his age, I wonder? He is a lot older than Beau and me, but still agile in other ways.

Oh good, she has finally noticed me looking in at her through the window and she smiles and waves at me. Now that just doesn't cut it when your belly is screaming the hum grumblies of hunger and you know there is food on the other side of that door just waiting for us, and we have to wait for her to open it. Think I will sit here and pout for a few minutes.

Oh thank goodness, she is finally coming towards us which means the food is ready. We could have wilted dead away while having to wait outside like this. (Time frame…twenty minutes) She opens the door and we go tearing inside past her, each of us trotting right over to our respective feeding place. Beau and Kipper always just dive right in, never even trying to figure out what we are being served, gobbling it all down like they haven't eaten in weeks; must be a Labrador thing. I sniff my dish and determine we are getting chicken and veggies with pasta served over our dry food. Yum, yum, yummy! Out of the corner of my eye I see the two gluttons head right over to her after they finished inhaling their food, looking for the dog cookie we always get after breakfast. They are so smug sitting there, shaking and alternating their paws with her as she counts “One, two, and three.” Kipper just had to throw an extra shake in there to make it four; the show off. Maybe I will just give him a dirty look.

I continue to eat my food slowly as I always have, savoring each morsel. When I have finished, I walk over and sit in front of her, offering her my paw, as is expected of me for my cookie. I could do the one, two, three thing, but we Bloodhounds can be stubborn, and I have an image to uphold. Besides, if I do it, she will expect it of me on a regular basis. I got excited once and did the one, two, three thing with my paws and it took me nearly six months to show her I couldn't get the hang of it again. Truth is I can do it when I want to, and she knows it, but I really do not want to do it. Score one for me! I have her trained on the paw shaking when it comes to me. I swear the boys would get more enjoyment from this morning ritual if they would just slow things up a bit. Oh well, I suppose that's just another Lab thing.

As I eat my cookie, she is reading that newspaper-thing while sipping her coffee and eating that bagel that smells so good. I hope she put the creamy cheese on it. I really like that creamy cheese stuff. Kipper and Beau sit beside her patiently waiting because we know that at given any moment she will give us each a piece of it to nibble on, and then us dogs will all go hot-footing back upstairs and pester the doggy dad who is still in bed. As we walk out of the kitchen we always hear her say, “You boys always desert me like rats abandoning a sinking ship when the food is gone.” She's right; we do. Basically, we really go upstairs to catch another forty winks or so until it is time to go for our morning walk. Sometimes Beau and Kipper don't go with us. That is okay as I really like my time with her alone sometimes; it is a dog thing.