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Ë®¹ûÊÓƵbodies - Two bundles of energy and love

By Rita Friesen

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Without the aid of an alarm clock, the household came alive just before 7:00 am. Right on schedule. The dogs are let out for a few minutes. They actually come when called, for they know that next on the agenda is breakfast. They patiently wait while I have my bowl of cold cereal, listening for the tell tale scrape of the spoon against the bottom. It’s a mad dash to the kitchen (breakfast is consumed in front of the computer, just in case anything important happened overnight!), a splash of milk in the bowl for Hoover and Miss Daisy to share while I fill their bowls. The warmth of the morning coffee and the sound of gobbling dogs, steady companions now for over six years. Nice mix. 

It is our custom to go for a morning walk. But this morning, the fog lies heavy and obscures the traffic. The sound rumbles and growls so I know ‘they’ are out there. Rather than walk in a fog, (I do that far too often!) we will tour the yard, on leash. Yesterday I turned my back for a moment and an unattended dog hit the high grass. Only the arrival of one of her favourite humans drew her out and back to the family. On leash it is. The first lap of the yard revealed yet another mole hill. I allowed the dogs play time in the old granary while I went for trap and trowel. Again, I only turned my back for a minute, the time it took to stride for the house and back, and they were both chest deep in the damp soil of the mole mound. There went my morning schedule. 

Miss Daisy detests being groomed, no hair cuts or nail cutting for her, so, much as I try to keep her tidy, one encounter with the wet earth leaves a trail of debris as she dries. Sink bath it is! My overall tone and demeanor has made them both aware they are in deep trouble. I tether them outside the door while I fill the sink and grab the towel. Hoover knows the drill and submits, reluctantly. Washed, toweled and back on the floor, he rubs his head against the recliner and gives me the evil eye. Miss Daisy is already quivering. I place in the warm water in the sink and growl a deep throated ‘no’, repeatedly as she struggles to escape. At one point, I sense she accepts the inevitable, and of course, she is by far the dirtier of the two. Long hair on one’s feet will trap soil. As I complete her ablution, I offer a cuddle. She declines. 

I have stated repeatedly over the last year and a half, these two canines have been the reason I get up every morning. These two bundles of energy and love keep me walking and moving. And this morning, these two darlings had me wanting to go back to bed and start all over!!