Breakfast routine
We rise around 7 each morning. R goes down to put the kettle on and I go into the bathroom then get dressed. I go downstairs, pausing at the landing window to put my hand on Lady’s ashes (she's the dog before) and say good morning to her. There is a large photo of Lady as a young dog of about two years of age facing me as I go down the main flight. My OH got the photo for me for our 50th wedding anniversary last year just before we got Poppy. Lady – a much loved dog gone but not forgotten.
The Pop dog is waiting at the foot of the stairs. When she first came to us she’d bound up the stairs and be all over me as I tried to come down. The girl has moved on from that now and just stretches and wags her tail a bit. Sometimes she pushes her head into my groin which is a bit alarming, but mainly it’s just a bit of rotary tail wagging. She’s such a funny dog. Her tail describes a circle and she can wag it with such vigour when she’s really happy that her whole body moves in sympathy with it. I sometimes copy her body movement back to her and this just makes her do it even harder. This tail wagging coupled with a funny way she puts her ears and holds her head makes her absolutely adorable – but then I’m biased.
I stick her out into the garden and must go out with her or she either won’t go through the door ahead of me, or if she does go ahead, she just stands and looks at the closed door until I let her back in. I check on the state of the garden and the lawn - it's been reduced to mainly tufts of long grass and bare Poppy wee patches. Poppy checks on the state of the squirrels then maybe has a wee or a pooh depending on her mood. Finding exactly the right place can take time.
Back in the house I feed her and top up her water bowl and then sit down for my bowl of cereal. The routine then follows like clockwork. Pops sits in the kitchen doorway staring at me while I eat and try to read the paper on my laptop while ignoring the hard Labrador stare – it’s fatal to make eye contact. As soon as I put my spoon down, she’s at me. Poke, poking my leg with her nose. If I try to ignore her she will often go and get a tennis ball and drop it just out of her reach and then pester me to get it for her. This can be repeated several times until she flips to sitting up and begging and drags a paw over my leg accompanied by great pain! I stroke her chest. She goes cross eyed with bliss and lets me do this for a bit then starts to poke me again. At this point I generally give up.
Her morning walk is usually between 3 and 4 miles depending on the route, so I think it prudent to have a loo break before I set off. It’s an age thing you know. She leads me to the loo and then thumps the door until I come out. She leads me to the back door.
I put on boots or wellingtons and maybe a coat depending on the time of the year and the weather. I sling the small game bag over my shoulder (contains pooh bags, spare lead, spare whistle, long line and two or sometimes three dummies). I put a collar with a GPS tracker (don’t ask!) on the Poppy dog and off we go, putting the slip lead on her as we exit the garden gate.
That’s “breakfast”. I’m working on being able to sit long enough for my OH to get dressed and join me on the morning walk but so far it’s a battle I have not been able to win.
Next episode - maybe the morning walk?
We rise around 7 each morning. R goes down to put the kettle on and I go into the bathroom then get dressed. I go downstairs, pausing at the landing window to put my hand on Lady’s ashes (she's the dog before) and say good morning to her. There is a large photo of Lady as a young dog of about two years of age facing me as I go down the main flight. My OH got the photo for me for our 50th wedding anniversary last year just before we got Poppy. Lady – a much loved dog gone but not forgotten.
The Pop dog is waiting at the foot of the stairs. When she first came to us she’d bound up the stairs and be all over me as I tried to come down. The girl has moved on from that now and just stretches and wags her tail a bit. Sometimes she pushes her head into my groin which is a bit alarming, but mainly it’s just a bit of rotary tail wagging. She’s such a funny dog. Her tail describes a circle and she can wag it with such vigour when she’s really happy that her whole body moves in sympathy with it. I sometimes copy her body movement back to her and this just makes her do it even harder. This tail wagging coupled with a funny way she puts her ears and holds her head makes her absolutely adorable – but then I’m biased.
I stick her out into the garden and must go out with her or she either won’t go through the door ahead of me, or if she does go ahead, she just stands and looks at the closed door until I let her back in. I check on the state of the garden and the lawn - it's been reduced to mainly tufts of long grass and bare Poppy wee patches. Poppy checks on the state of the squirrels then maybe has a wee or a pooh depending on her mood. Finding exactly the right place can take time.
Back in the house I feed her and top up her water bowl and then sit down for my bowl of cereal. The routine then follows like clockwork. Pops sits in the kitchen doorway staring at me while I eat and try to read the paper on my laptop while ignoring the hard Labrador stare – it’s fatal to make eye contact. As soon as I put my spoon down, she’s at me. Poke, poking my leg with her nose. If I try to ignore her she will often go and get a tennis ball and drop it just out of her reach and then pester me to get it for her. This can be repeated several times until she flips to sitting up and begging and drags a paw over my leg accompanied by great pain! I stroke her chest. She goes cross eyed with bliss and lets me do this for a bit then starts to poke me again. At this point I generally give up.
Her morning walk is usually between 3 and 4 miles depending on the route, so I think it prudent to have a loo break before I set off. It’s an age thing you know. She leads me to the loo and then thumps the door until I come out. She leads me to the back door.
I put on boots or wellingtons and maybe a coat depending on the time of the year and the weather. I sling the small game bag over my shoulder (contains pooh bags, spare lead, spare whistle, long line and two or sometimes three dummies). I put a collar with a GPS tracker (don’t ask!) on the Poppy dog and off we go, putting the slip lead on her as we exit the garden gate.
That’s “breakfast”. I’m working on being able to sit long enough for my OH to get dressed and join me on the morning walk but so far it’s a battle I have not been able to win.
Next episode - maybe the morning walk?
